Covalent Bonds
by pronker
Summary: ObiWan practices self-mortification during his abstinence from enjoying Anakin's charms. Anakin indulges other appetites of the flesh. They both need to stop thinking of themselves. The Force steps in. Slash. Sequel to 2007's "As Clear As Mud."
1. Chapter 1

Title: Covalent Bonds

Author: pronker

Time: Anakin is twenty-two.

Genre: Action/Adventure. Slash.

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.

Warnings: This story is a sequel to one in 2007 entitled, "As Clear As Mud." It would help to read that one, though any inquiries to plot points will be answered. A general summary leading up to this point is that Anakin and Obi-Wan are an established couple known about in skittish ways within the Order, Padme and Anakin have divorced and the Jedi Code has been revised to allow greater internal democracy, including attachments. Not many Jedi have taken the opportunity to form any, being busy with the War. Yoda has a grand plan to capture Dooku, who is proving to be difficult to subdue with Grievous' increased viciousness against all and sundry becoming a problem. Grievous' loyalty was mainly to Palpatine, and with the latter's death, the Kaleesh is disenchanted with the Count. A sequel essentially destroys the conclusion of the first story; here is one anyway.

Summary: Obi-Wan practices self-mortification during his abstinence from enjoying Anakin's charms. Anakin indulges other appetites of the flesh. They both need to stop thinking of themselves. The Force steps in.

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"Anakin, say the Release-of-Master's-Authority." Obi-Wan put down the double armload of groceries on the kitchen island. "And really, Padawan, carbonated beverages in the _morning?"_

Anakin gave a last poke to the frying pan and choked on his bubblezap. He grabbed a napkin that Obi-Wan shoved at him and held it to his face. "Owwtch, id wed ub by dose and did I _hear_ you right?" Not only his nose burned, but there was a sore spot in his throat out of keeping with the small scale of the incident.

They stared at each other for a long stretching minute, competitive and curious and _testing,_ until Obi-Wan cracked a grin. "Wanted to see what you'd do. You're so close to Knighthood, I won't make you say it." Obi-Wan crossed his arms tightly, slid sideways until he wasn't facing Anakin, until they stood shoulder-to-shoulder in their steamy kitchen, not quite touching. "But I could."

The _something_ was back, its presence making itself felt after two long, hardship-filled years. Anakin's leggings felt tight as he said quietly, "But you won't."

A beat. "No."

"Will you say 'no' to this?" And Anakin kissed him.

All the frustration these past long months, _years,_ must have made Obi-Wan gasp into Anakin's mouth before choking out, "Nope." In a move that shocked Anakin to his core, Obi-Wan leaned backwards on the kitchen island, braced both hands against its rounded tile edge and heaved himself on it. Obi-Wan then lay flat, Force-pushed mesh bags of groceries onto the floor and spread his legs, lifting his tunic skirt so that Anakin could see the stain spreading through his leggings. "Do me," Obi-Wan drawled.

The dishwasher pump-whooshed and the sizzling punko eggs smoked as nerf shortening blackened and then the smoke alarm's gong added to the din. Through the whooshing and the sizzling and the fizzing and the gonging and the roaring in Anakin's ears, he obeyed the command as the stain grew impossibly large, soaking through the plain weave down Obi-Wan's thighs and up to his navel. Anakin kissed the navel, undid laces, opened his eyes widely. Never forgotten, the shape and color and taste of Obi-Wan filled his senses and he bobbed his head, slicking saliva onto the shiny cockhead, accepting the direction of his Master's guiding hands in this as in all other things. The hands grabbed his shoulders gently, then tightened as the tension grew. Anakin bobbed faster. Now the hands shook his shoulders most unpleasantly and Anakin thought he knew what Obi-Wan wanted and blew bubbles around the shaft, _hmmmm_ing and bobbing even faster. He threw in a circular grinding and a low growl, ignoring the sore spot halfway down his gullet that was jabbed at each thrust. The hands at his shoulders changed to obnoxious tugs at his tunic's neckline that annoyed him. Finally having had enough, he lifted his uvula, teeth, tongue and lips off. "What do you _want,_ can't you see I'm _trying_ --- "

In its auburn nest of curls, Obi-Wan's cock opened its tiny slit of a mouth and shouted, "Anakin! Wake up! Annnnn-a-_kin_!"

Another voice. "He's just stunned, sir. See? Not much blood. I'll stay with him while you go on. The HUD timer shows it's almost Herf-Hour, two point six minutes left."

"I'm going to reach him first." Though their SpeakBond hadn't lasted more than one month after Obi-Wan's complete recovery from his illness two years ago, Anakin could still feel Obi-Wan's hands Touch his mind ever so gently. The physical hands soothed knotted neck muscles, brushed off loose gravel from the montane soil and dug out some bits that had embedded in his neck. The other pair of hands prodded, then caressed him. A flowing sense of urgency spread from those hands and threatened to become anxiety. Anakin opened his eyes.

"There, sir, he's conscious." A white blur stepped into the sunlight to shade Anakin's eyes from the glare. Anakin found himself surprised again at a clone's thoughtfulness. Jango Fett had been a complex man. Or was this the Kaminoan tweaking of Fett's genome? It didn't matter. Grit blown by the ever-present wind in Olanet's foothills blew into Anakin's eyes and he blinked rapidly through tears.

"Padawan, can you hear me?" Obi-Wan's armor looked more dented than ... yesterday? How long _had_ he been out? Anakin nodded and winced. It didn't seem necessary to try to talk just yet, and his throat felt bruised and sore. Something had hit him about the head and neck, maybe a shower of granite scree. This scraped feeling was from more than just artillery's concussive air pops. Already he was flat and soft again, down there where it mattered. Perhaps from the jolt to his limbic system, he felt suddenly sad. The Clone Wars drained the Republic still, despite Palpatine's death and Chancellor Organa's best efforts. Three years of war ate at the Jedi's numbers, down to nine thousand from ten, grief stalked the Temple daily, was experienced and released in an unending aching stream. When had he last been home, to Coruscant? Seven, no, eight months. He'd visited briefly with Vice-Chancellor Amidala --- _Padme _--- in her usual business style, short and to the point. They had evolved to a cordial enough relationship after some bumpy meetings following the divorce. She had broken up with Ommane Retbax, flirted with a few members of the ColdCuts band, enjoyed a very brief fling with Teragram Gingwit, their vocalist, and now was footloose and fancy-free. He honestly had not known about this aspect to her character. He'd known only about Palo of Naboo. He felt provincial when he told her that Obi-Wan and he were still together after two and a half years. There had followed some technical talk about the war's progress and the role of the Jedi in predicting Dooku's strategy due to his Jedi background; he'd made arrangements for taking "custody" of Artoo and Threepio. There wasn't a better term for their shared friendship with the reprogrammed droids, he supposed. Home to the Temple for two weeks during the Jedi Annual Picnic and Open Temple Tour season, except that the majority of Temple-based Jedi had voted against having one this year. Democracy flowered, renewed in the Jedi this past year since the Code had been revised. Anakin had sorely missed the relaxation of the picnic. Their furlough passed in a blur, and just as he was relaxing enough to sleep through the night completely, it was time to return to the front. "Padawan?"

"Hrrr_kack_--- "

"You're going to stay with him all the time, Trooper, eh, Five-Two-Three-One, until he's mobile. I've got to leave." The fingers left his mind. Anakin's watery eyes overflowed and he sniffled. As a last gesture, Obi-Wan drew out his stash of personal tissues from his belt pouch and dried Anakin's face. "Blow." Anakin blew. Obi-Wan tucked the used tissues away neatly and left. Anakin could hear the Aratech 105-K lancer bikes rise, regroup and swirl away to the fighting in dopplering hums. And here he was, stuck on the sidelines, just like in scramball that time when Ferus had clocked him. The game surged around him, he'd wanted intensely to be in it, but his body refused to cooperate. That game had left him behind. Now the war had left him behind. The stakes were so much higher in war than a simple win or loss, whether his team went to the finals or not.

"He'll get you into armor yet," ARC5231 commented, then sighed, "but we're still trying to get him to wear a helmet. It's an uphill battle." The trooper sat beside Anakin, close enough to shade him and to tend to him, should he need it. Anakin waited only to gather his wits and his balance and then he'd be on his way to the medtech tent. He'd been hurt often enough not to argue with _anyone_ about going there. He'd gotten a ragged scar on his face from not going to the tent soon enough for bacta to be entirely effective. Someday, he'd have the scar taken care of. But that day was not today.

Master Siri Tachi was with them on Olanet. She and her former Padawan, Ferus Olin, made a formidable team on their speeder bikes, much like Anakin and Obi-Wan. Ferus was a good sort, unbending in his attachment to the Order, bending when needed to implement Master Rancisis' ploys as circumstances changed them into reality on the battlefield. He and Anakin's relationship had warmed, and if Ferus pitied Anakin for remaining a Padawan longer than any other human in their age group, he was too much the gentleman to mention it. Ferus made sure Anakin thought he considered himself Anakin's equal in status in the Temple, in every way but one. Rank had its privileges, but Ferus never pushed for them over Anakin. Anakin was grateful, mostly, but when one after another of his agemates made Knight, he had to be honest with himself and admit that it stung. It was like when old Jira had given Anakin, Kitster, Amee, Greedo and the rest of the gang luscious pallies and insisted that they were only on credit. Anakin knew, Amee knew, all the rest knew that the debt would never be repaid. If Jira knew, she never let on, having as much courtliness in her offhand manner as had Ferus in his Jedi kindness. It still rankled a tiny bit, that sense of being not-quite-square with the galaxy.

Siri's relationship with Obi-Wan was cooler than Anakin had ever seen it. They didn't argue. They didn't chat about old times. They were businesslike.Like me and my ex, but without the warmth, Anakin thought sometimes when he reviewed his relationships during icy nights in the log cabin that he and Obi-Wan had been assigned one week ago in the Olanet Mountains. Rolled in blankets and cloaks next to each other, after the first night they no longer warmed each other by pressing nude flesh together. One night of that and they both had nearly climbed the walls the next morning. In the way of things, they had uncontrolled thoughts, unbridled erections that neither wanted to satisfy in the presence of the other. "If only my midichlorian count approached yours. How do unimprinted Jedi or even commoners handle this?" Obi-Wan moaned to Anakin at breakfast. "It's ... _Sithly._"

Anakin growled, "It's one thing that keeps Soul Healer Regork busy, I imagine." He always uncomfortable comparing himself and his midichlorian count with Obi-Wan's. _As if my count made me anything like the Jedi that Master is._

"Bundling."

"What?"

"Bundling. It's a way to build warmth without touching, exactly. We stay dressed, we wrap ourselves in layers of blankets separately with one large blanket over both of us. Heat builds up, spreads. It'll work."

"Sounds reasonable. Are you thinking of asking some clones to join us? Last night was below freezing." The clones would do anything that the Jedi asked, even inputting their interpretations of orders in a manner unlike Anakin or Obi-Wan had ever seen. Some selection had taken place for the 212th Attack Battalion that Obi-Wan and Anakin currently commanded, perhaps screening for greater independence in the clone stock. It bothered him, for the clones' sake, but they seemed unaffected by any sense of outrage. They did their tasks efficiently, cheerfully. Anakin put his moral repugnance on their behalf down to his Jedi heritage of helping others, though in this case what had been done to them had smoothed over Jango Fett's belligerence and played up his resourcefulness. Even his attachment to his son, Boba, came into the foreground sometimes. The clones showed great tenderness to their wounded, even the statistically rare ones who suffered breakdowns after battles. Off-duty, they called each other, no matter their battle group, "brother," and it fit.

"Only if we run out of firewood or space heaters, and that's not likely. It wouldn't be fair to the ones who could not sleep with us. They admire Jedi so much that it's unsettling, sometimes."

"We could hold a lottery for cabin privileges."

"Now you're being facetious. I'm merely saying that if the weather worsens unseasonably, we would join them in their tents, not the other way around."

"My democratic Master. That's why I love you." He couldn't remember the last time he had said 'I love you' and that hurt a little.

"That and my body heat." Keep it light, Obi-Wan thought. No sense swooping into _that_ territory again. "Did you see my mods to my swoop? I'm thinking of having the troops switch to my specifications."

Anakin appreciated the change of subject. "You tinkerer, you. Am I rubbing off on you?"

_Rubbing off ... oh ... _"Erm, possibly. At any rate, I thought more aerodynamic surface could add to the pilot's control of the flight, so I affixed another vane to the aft portion."

Anakin frowned. "They're lancer speeder _bikes_ and you're calling them 'swoops.' They're not much more than a seat over an engine now. How are you going to control the vane?"

"With the Force, for now, but if the troops' _bikes_ get the mod, I'll think of something."_ Wires? No. Knee pressure pads to direct the vanes' angles? That sounds attainable._

"Techno-Wan, my Master, there's a reason why podracing and swoop racing are outlawed on some planets. Those vehicles are unpredictable, they're at a low altitude of only twenty-five meters --- "

"That's just the 74-Z's; these 105-K's can go up to the low stratosphere with the right boost. Just because we haven't had need to go up there yet --- "

"'Can' doesn't mean 'should.' I don't want to scrape either you or any clones off the mountain, Obi-Wan." Anakin found recklessness in Obi-Wan one of the less endearing consequences of their imprinting.

A cough from ARC5231 brought Anakin back to the present._ He modded it without my help. I only hope it holds together._ "'S'go," he croaked to the clone. Anakin rose, wobble-legged, but at a deep breath of the crisp air, steadied and headed for the medtech tent. ARC5231 followed and watched his back, ready to lend a helping hand.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Olanet is cold and the Separatists have hurt Anakin. I hate it. And them._ In a small, shuttered room far in the back of his mind, Obi-Wan Kenobi entertained those thoughts as he gunned his lancer speeder bike to breast Siri's. She didn't glance his way. She was at his side, but not _with_ him, not as a fellow Jedi, given their shared history. With Garen, Reeft, Bant and all the rest of his generation, he experienced varying degrees of warmth and lasting friendships. It sustained him on missions, in their Temple days of camaraderie and commiserating over the tribulations and rewards of being Knights and particularly over the trials of having Padawans. How in tune he had felt with his Order when they all expressed joy over his recovery from his illness, even when not one of them truly knew its origin. With Siri, she was his fellow warrior, along with Ferus and all the other Jedi. But that was all. In the small, shuttered room, he felt his hatred thoroughly of the planet and of the Separatists, his and Anakin's and the Republic's enemy. He indulged in a wallow of emotion, and when he was ready a split-second later to release it, he did. It was not difficult. He had been doing it since childhood, since lessons with Master Yoda, Master Drallig, Master Qui-Gon and all his other teachers. He was an adult now, a Knight, a Master, a Councilmember. There was no room for improvement within the Order, no place to advance to. It struck him briefly that he had entertained ambitions and he felt ashamed. _More meditation, more self-abnegation, Obi-Wan. But after the battle._

The plan was to pierce the defenses of the reputed second-largest droid factory since Geonosis. After the droids were disposed of, artillery in the form of turbolasers would pierce the factory's shields, their battalion would enter the facility to end resistance. Dooku was not here, Grievous was not here, if their intel was correct, and Master Tholme's information was rarely wrong. There were IG lancer combat droids, but Obi-Wan saw no officers that looked organic. _Odd. Were their forces needed elsewhere? What could be more important than protecting a droid factory of this magnitude?_ Their squadron flared into fighting mode, flying almost stirrup-to-stirrup and then the battle was joined.

As the waves of warriors clashed, time telescoped as reflexes took over. Obi-Wan thrust, hacked and hewed alongside Siri and Ferus, and then a lance from a droid hit his bike dead-on in a jolt that sent him nose-down until his prow nearly scraped the dust of residual snow from last week's blizzard. Obi-Wan tapped into the Force, angled his new stabilizer vane to the degree that the Force dictated to him, and went into a sideways spin instead. Flipping upside down at one point, he swallowed back bile as his head narrowly missed an outcropping of granite. _I cannot bring myself to wear a helmet. I am stupid._ The spin slowed, he righted, took a breath and zoomed back into the fray. Siri and Ferus had each taken a troop to the outskirts of the droid's formation, working their way inward in a deadly crush. But there was still some fighting left for him.

Obi-Wan caught up with his troop, who were acquitting themselves admirably. He gave the signal for 'to me!', smiling a little as Commander Cody relayed it with one hand signal while firing a blaze of bolts at a droid with the other, starting at the crotch and moving to the gut. The automaton's gyro-balancers targeted by Cody were waist-high; the droid toppled almost comically to one side, spasming a final burst. Obi-Wan's smile disappeared as the last dying blast of the anonymous droid hit Cody's jet-pack, sparking a flame and a sharper yelp of pain than Obi-Wan heard through the helmet's deadening thickness. He sobered further when Cody bent double to spare his hams from a searing burn, the flare from the jet-pack ignited Obi-Wan's jutting afterboosters and Obi-Wan's speeder bike took off raggedly. Soon he was at the maximum speed of six hundred kilometers per hour, and then surpassed it. It was far too fast for him to roll off safely, and he clung with all the strength in one hand to the controls as he reached down to toggle the cutoff switch for the afterboosters. The droid's lance had jarred its connection and it refused to work. _I modded extra afterboosters when I added the auxiliary steering vane. And I topped off the afterbooster fuel tanks last night. _There was no suitable curse for this situation; not even 'kriff' would do.

Siri looked up after she decapitated two droids at once, stepping over the sparking cylindrical heads neatly. The Force whispered that a danger arose, a Jedi was in serious trouble and that she was the Force's instrument, here and now in the field. She heard a runaway lancer speeder bike scream in the distance and saw someone _trailing a brown cloak_ clinging to it. Closer to her were Cody and his mates gesticulating and slapping at Cody's smoking hindquarters, troopers on the fringe of the group gesturing after the diminishing bike. _General Kenobi._

"Ferus! Have you got things in hand here?" _He saw it, too. He's going to make Master soon. But not yet._

"Everything's --- _ungh slash frzzz --- _under control, Siri! --- _Smash. Clank. Rogerrr ... Rrrog- --- _Go for him!"

Siri leaped astride her bike, which had been hovering at her side to provide cover since she dismounted to mop up the droids. She gunned the controls and activated the standard single afterburner when she had cleared the battling troopers. She leaned tightly into the bike, calling out a Force-bubble to smooth her shoulder-length blonde hair from whipping into her eyes. _Unisuit. So glad I'm wearing the unisuit._ Within one minute she could see Obi-Wan ahead, zigzagging to slow his momentum, his form shaking enough to appear transdimensional. A mound of snow appeared and Obi-Wan's bike sizzled through it. His cloak fell._ There could have been rocks under the mound, Obi-Wan. Not smart._ A few more minutes and she could reach him, if he continued cutting his momentum. She calculated his trajectory to mirror his next zig before it zagged and moved to parallel his route, when a larger mound of white appeared and the runaway bike pointed its nose for the stars to miss it.

Obi-Wan feared for the worst and it happened. His third and final afterbooster, reached tardily by the ignition of the first two, roared. And the direction was straight up. Before he knew it, he was at twelve kilometers in altitude and gasping for air. There was a sickening still moment when his fuel depleted at last and he hung as a satellite, suspended above the clouds. Looking down, he spotted someone's speck of a bike chasing him. _Thanks, whoever you are. Even if it's too late._ He kicked free of the useless bike, spread himself to the winds and prepared to wrench every last second out of his life. _Fifteen seconds, tops, of useful concentration up here. _Up this high, in the clear ether he spotted an aurora similar to the one that glorified last night's freezing temperatures. I won't be around to see it tonight, he thought, but Anakin will. _Anakin. Darling._ His passing would devastate Anakin, but not as much as two years ago or, stars forbid, ten years ago. Anakin would mourn, light his pyre and go on. He knew he would. The aurora's blue and violet curtains were the last things he saw before he blacked out. The tingle coming from all sides, penetrating him, binding him, must have been the Force. He surrendered to it.

Siri's eyes widened. _He's a rocket. I've got to catch him._ She followed as best she could, angling straight up, keeping an eye on her own fuel. _Not much left at this rate of speed. He's off his bike, starting to fall._ She couldn't go any faster, so she concentrated on evading the dropping speeder bike and maneuvering to meet his falling corpse. _No sense spearing it, upset the troops any more than they have to be. _She reached for Obi-Wan's hand, its iciness matching the look in his half-lidded, bleary gaze. He didn't meet her eyes. _Oh, yes, he's joined the --- wait._ Obi-Wan's corpse blinked. So he wasn't suffocated by the altitude, she thought as she hauled in his limp form across her lap. She clamped a hand around his pauldron to keep him from sliding off her slick unisuit. She began the descent carefully, buffeted by the high-altitude winds. Closer and closer crept Olanet's foothills with their pockets of snow-filled ravines next to the battalion's headquarters camp. With an eye to an easier landing site, she angled her aft port vane down slightly and her aft starboard vane up an infinitesimal degree. The bike responded, slewing to port towards one likely looking white gully. There was a shudder and then the fuel ran out._ Too soon! _She toggled the fuel switch with her toe. _Nothing_. She reached a cautious hand downwards towards the recalcitrant switch, poked it savagely and it cooperated. With an uneven flare of fueling, the afterburner roared, the bike skewed further to port. Obi-Wan slid off her lap. She grabbed for him and was rewarded by only a handful of auburn hair. Her bike continued to sputter. _The unisuit. I __**would**__ have to wear the unisuit this duty rotation._ She followed Obi-Wan erratically, trusting in the Force that she had been meant this day to slow his fall enough to help him live through this.

Obi-Wan was colder than he had ever been, even last night in their cabin after the fire had died down. He opened his eyes, wiping the tears streaming from them with a slow hand. _Did I miss something?_ He looked down. _Pretty. Clouds. Herds of white nerfs, too. Inspiring how the nerfherders keep their ancient occupation going in the upland valleys in the midst of a war zone. The nerfs appear larger now; I can make out their individual features. Why would that be? Oh. _In a burst of unknown strength, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force even as he stretched his arms and legs out as far as he could. The slit of ravine that had the most snow revealed itself, he pinwheeled and it became obvious to him that he was going to make it, he was going to hit his target. _I honestly did not think that I could. I feel charged, somehow. _And then he hit and the air whooshed painfully out of his lungs.

Anakin rubbed his throat as he exited the medtech tent. Application of bacta to the base of his tugged braid and his abraded neck had done its work, but swallowing the nasty stuff to heal his raw throat made his mouth pucker. He was not given leave to return to battle for another half-day. It rankled being this far away from Obi-Wan, yet they had had a few solo missions in the two years since Trow. He was about to head for the mess tent for some soft, easy-to-swallow mush when a _ping!_ from his imprinted sense of his Master whirled him around to look skywards. Their training bond thrummed with alarm as he spotted an unsteady flame of some speeder bike traveling far above its usual twenty-five meter altitude sputtering to the ground and a smaller figure anteceding its landing by some moments. _That's Obi-Wan!_ By gargantuan leaps and bounds, he headed for the narrow ravine that both bike and man seemed aimed for. _Let me get there in time, please don't let it be like Mom, please ... no!_ At the base of the thirty-meter ravine where the snow was piled thickest, his boots slicked, he scrabbled and clawed with both hands to catch his falling Master. The snow clung to his legs until he thought to initiate small Force-pushes from his calves, but he was still going to be too late, too late. _This would not happen. __**No.**_ Obi-Wan hit the snow, rolled a few meters and hit a snow-shrouded boulder, bounced and was airborne.

"This is going to hurt. This is going to hurt lots," thought Anakin as Obi-Wan hurtled down at him through flying snow. Anakin planted his feet and looked at his Master's approaching limp form. Worth it all. Worth _more._ Obi-Wan struck him, Anakin dropped to his knees, rolling Obi-Wan on top of him, pulling every back muscle that Anakin owned. Obi-Wan's head snapped back into Anakin's throat, choking him with a hard blow to the pharynx. _No, not in the throat again! _Anakin couldn't breathe as his throat swelled. He lay with a layer of Obi-Wan covering every centimeter of him, except for the handspan or so due to the differences in their heights. He convulsed as his diaphragm spasmed trying to draw enough air, thinking at the last moment to cradle Obi-Wan's head from smacking down into the gravelly slush beside him where Anakin's boots had worn away the cushioning snow. Before he blacked out, Anakin sensed a change in his imprinted Master, a change that echoed Padme in some strange, strange fashion. When he came to a half-minute later, wheezing like a steamkettle, he dismissed the notion as a concussion-induced mirage. He felt Obi-Wan's still body all over, and wondered how much of his Master could be saved.

_Meanwhile, back on Coruscant ..._

"Palo, Palo. Old friend." Padme's Vice-Chancellor's robes of office required slow, stately steps. She held out her hands to Palo, making certain to squeeze so tight and no tighter. This was business, tinged with slight pleasure. She relinquished his grip and indicated the informal settee reserved for friends who were allowed to sit next to her. They perched like Solleu River ducks on the settee's edge, before looking at each other with a laugh and settling against the brocaded cushions. "You're looking well."

"You, too." With her formal hair ornaments in place and the scar of remembrance etched in red paint onto her lower lip for this solemn holiday memorializing the end of the Trade Federation blockade, she exuded Naboo elegance. Her warm brown eyes darkened. She leaned into his side.

"How is Dorme?"

"Well. She keeps asking about you." Dorme's renewal of handmaiden vows never took place. Palo had reentered Padme's sphere one year ago during a fundraiser gala, Dorme and he had struck up a romance immediately and married even quicker than had Anakin and Padme. While she could have stayed in Padme's service as a handmaiden, she chose to return to Naboo and work as liaison between Senior Senator Jar-Jar Binks' and Junior Senator Ommane Retbax' offices. She discovered the true meaning of the word 'inundated.'

"Palo, you've done well. Mama and Papa frequent your shop and sent me this." Padme nodded toward the ceramic piece on the caf table before them. It rested on a snowy doily, courtesy of Threepio's tidiness.

Palo spared his work a polite glance. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. It was inspired by a trip to Varykino two years ago."

"_You've_ been to Varykino lately?"

"Ommane Retbax invited me there. We enjoyed a week repulsor skiing together, before I met Dorme, naturally." His nostalgic smile told Padme everything. "Ommane's left your employ, hasn't she?"

"Yeeess." _What advantage could dating Palo have had for her? She rarely did anything just for fun. Except scramball and dancing._ "She's the Junior Senator from home, please tell me that you knew that."

"What can I say? The Legislative Youth Group was years ago, I lost interest in politics. I modeled for some years while in art school, then my parents died at the camps during the Trade Federation War and when I gained my majority, I controlled my inheritance and put my works in a shop that I bought." _Just recapping our conversation from one year ago, the one you seem to have forgotten. _ "The shop has done well, and I'd like it to do better." _Why did she ask to see me?_

Padme took his hand with her white-nailed one. "I can offer a chance for that. It will involve some risk for you, but it will aid the war effort."

"I don't know, Padme. I'm as patriotic as the next citizen, but I'm married now. I just don't see what I can do." He laughed. "See this roll of flab? Good cooking did it. Dorme's a wonder in the kitchen. If this requires any aerobic effort, well ... " He withdrew his hand gently. _Don't push, Padme. We haven't remained __**that**__ close._

Padme stared at the ceramic piece. "It offers a chance to get revenge on the Trade Federation, the Separatists." She folded her arms inside her bell-shaped sleeves, looking like the Queen she used to be. "It's a plan that involves an art dealer such as yourself. It's a plan that --- "

" --- end the war, it could."

"Yoda?" Palo knew him from the HoloNews, during the rare interview involving Jedi business, and from the hour-long State of the Jedi address given each decade. The one two years ago had made barely a blip on his consciousness. Revision of some Code or other. He'd been more interested in Ommane's scramball tournament, during his attempts to impress her with his sports knowledge. Their fling hadn't lasted long. He could summon up fake interest, but not sustain it for an entire evening. Ommane had noticed eventually.

"Yoda, I mean _Master_ Yoda, when did you come in? Hello, by the way." Padme's body language changed from formal to informal to formal again, Palo noticed with his artist's eye. If she were sitting for him during a holosculpture session, he would have had to have at least four modes to portray her shifting moods.

"Called me to here, the Force did. Also called the Supreme Chancellor for a meeting this morning. Afterwards, in the neighborhood, I was, and wondered how you would enjoy luncheon with me." Yoda's eyes were half-lidded in what Palo interpreted as sultriness. He felt like he was intruding. "Give me your office entry code, you did, Padme."

"Yes, I did." _But I don't like surprises like this. We'll have to talk._ "Please have a seat."

"Stand, I will, if it pleases you. Sitting all morning with Chancellor Organa, I have been. Get stiff if I do not walk frequently, I do." Yoda's eyes crinkled. "But know that, you do, Padme."

_Is Padme blushing? Difficult to tell under her facepaint. She's biting her scar of remembrance, though._ "Mmmmhmm, I do. Well, then. Yoda, as long as you _are_ in the meeting now, would you care to explain our plan to Palo?"

"It won't involve modeling, will it? I'm past the modeling prime by ten years." Palo felt obliged to laugh his way through this meeting. He hoped the awkwardness would be eased by it.

Yoda didn't reply. Instead he pointed with his stick to Palo's _Home for Solstice Night_ resting on its doily. "Art, craft, what difference between them is there?"

_This I can answer. _"None, Yoda, not to me, at least. The effort to complete one's vision is the same. Perfection must be reached by both the craftsperson and the artist." Palo knew the dangers of being a perfectionist. As one of his art teachers had impressed upon him, the hardest part of doing art was knowing when to quit. He had become a dealer in addition to being an artist to expand his business skills beyond their larval state. So far, he hadn't become disillusioned with art or the business of it.

Padme interrupted. "Please use his title, Palo."

"Oh, of course. I apologize, Master Yoda." _She's defending him. This can't be what it seems like._

Yoda pushed on, coming closer to Padme's knee and giving it a light tap with his gimer stick. It was nearly a caress. "My politician friend, steeped in the niceties of living, she is, Palo of Naboo. If only all beings shared her sense of fairness, of justice, of ... beauty ... as I hope _you_ do. This plan will put your aesthetic sense to good practical use, if choose to help us, you do."

Palo was intrigued despite himself. _Three hours until my transport leaves. May as well listen._

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The question, "Where were you when Palpatine died?" became a standard throughout the Galaxy in the past two years. Beings benchmarked their memories by that phrase. "I was recalibrating my speeder's odometer in the hangar when the news broke into my music." "We were enroute to our vacation timeshare villa when we heard the news. Our spawn didn't stop sobbing for _hours."_ "I'm not very political. I didn't hear about it until the next day. I was in seclusion writing my vioflute sonatina. Most put a crescendo at the end, but _I_ --- "

Count Dooku of Serenno knew precisely where he had been, almost to the nano-second. He had been at his family home on Serenno, using the Force to aid his timing in placing a bid one split-second after his competitor's on jockeying for a prime specimen of Jedi memorabilia. In the midst of a strategy session with the useful tool named Grievous, an alarm on his family crest ring vibrated his left pinkie. He pulled a thoughtful face on the General, stroking his beard and scowling, holding up an aristocratic hand before striding to his hooded private comm station, leaving Grievous to ponder on his motives when he demanded that the cyborg remain at the strategy table. Keeping a specious expression on his face, he logged onto the HoloNet auction site he frequented the most, _JediNow. _"Awarded to you, HONEST1. Congratulations," scrolled across the rare Pasmin set of ecru diplomatic robes that rotated before his steepled hands. He would have reached out to fondle the plushness of their sparking blue hologram image that was a hollow representation of their grace if Grievous were not pointing his mask in his direction, his cyborg head at a curious tilt. _Got you, second-best bidder,_ Dooku preened, then a red wave of opportunity branded itself into his thoughts, surely a gift from the Dark Side. Something opportune had happened, an occasion similar to winning the item in the auction, fraught with possibilities of improvement in status, laden with the price of acquisition. _My Master is ... dead? _

Dooku betrayed this stunning news with no gasp. He cast about with all his considerable power to find the dark thoughts that distinguished his Master's Force signature. Nothing. Sidious was dead. _Spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely dead. So much for his plans to clone himself._ He sensed a gap in the black web of plotting they had constructed between them, the master schemer absent from the center of the web, Dooku's own satellite presence thrust into his place. The red wave diminished to dying ripples; the ambitions remained. Dooku gestured through the hologram to "purchase immediately, ship to customary drop site, charge to HONEST1," and smiled widely for the first time in several years. _Opportunity. And I shall make the most of it._ He fondled the Sith holocron that he had stolen from the Jedi Temple, the one that had made all that trouble between Nod and himself. Currently in use as a flimsiweight, this time the holocron revealed even more of its riches to his mind, like an onion with another layer peeled away, and like an onion would, the sensation of nearly unlimited power in the Dark Side brought tears to his eyes. Richly acidic thoughts of where he would take the Republic after his CIS forces' defeat of their flawed clone army formed in him, almost as visualized as the hologram had been. If droids were tools with no souls, clones were worse: they were cheap knockoffs of Fett, shaped by Kaminoans to boring repetitiveness. Yes, clones were part of his and Sidious' grand plan to start the Clone Wars, but they stank of mediocrity. The unevenness of an army with untweaked Fett's traits would have made commanding them like herding puuri cats, however.

Grievous viewed Dooku's actions with increasingly jaundiced eyes. He knew Dooku scorned down-and-dirty field commanding; Grievous accepted that. He did not accept that Dooku interrupted their strategizing for purchasing _things_ that Grievous was certain Lord Sidious scorned. Grievous himself would never part with his lightsaber collection for any price. The glow he felt when he fondled each one, remembering his victory over the Jedi scum who had thought to best him in battle, sustained his warrior pride. Somehow he sensed that even before becoming enhanced by his cyborg body, he had earned this pride. The fact that Dooku would _purchase_ pride rated him low on Grievous' scale of values. First came Lord Sidious. Second, Ventress and the other Dark Acolytes, whose expertise Grievous appreciated even if he hated the beings themselves. Third, _Count_ Dooku. If Grievous had had a sense of humor left to him, he would have said _Dis_Count Dooku. When Dooku said abruptly, "Lord Sidious has died," Grievous knew that he would have to become even fiercer than he had been as a warlord to ensure that Lord Sidious' marvelous plans would succeed to honor his memory. He had bowed to Count Dooku with no sense of irony at all. Finer distinctions like irony had been purged from his brain's matrix by the Geonosians who had built him back up from blasted flesh.

Today might have been a replay of that day over two years ago, Grievous thought. In the midst of discussing enticing new technology that would enable Geonosians to clone droids, Dooku had unfocused his eyes and rubbed his left pinkie. If Grievous' species rolled their eyes, he would have indulged in the habit as Dooku again held up an imperious palm and settled himself at his comm station, punching in data, hidden by the station's hood, as if he did not know that Grievous knew his habit and practice by now. Grievous shut down the display of crystal diagrams, crossed all four of his arms and waited for the inevitable return to the subject at hand as if nothing had interfered. Not much had changed in three years of war, except that their forces needed new technology to keep up droid production. He could wait a few minutes for the latest auction drama, he supposed.

Dooku's obsidian eyes glittered. _Lot number six-twelve. My old Master's ship reg plate. Complete with docking permit stickers allowing it to dock anywhere, anytime. A find!_ Fallen or blown off in battle during their failed attempt to conquer Coruscant, it didn't matter: Dooku was catching up in the bidding and he added fifty thousand more credits to his bid to blow the opponents out of the water. _Let Grievous tap all his fingers at once. I'll not be distracted from my goal._ After bidding an additional thirty thousand credits to ensure his superiority, Dooku indulged his curiosity and tapped the "Upcoming!" holographic window. All else faded from view as a scroll of virtual flimsi unrolled as if in realtime. In elegant script, an invitation to a private members-only auction of one-of-a-kind Jedi antiques wrote itself in midair, each line slowly revealing itself, just as slowly fading. After jabbing 'save' to no response, Dooku stared at the invitation to commit it to memory. " ... most favored bidders ... exclusive ... time and date to be announced ... unique items ... priceless ... mortgage your estate for this one ... " Dooku recognized classy advertising when he saw it. At the end, no trace could be found of the window. _How intriguing. Eh, back to business._

_

* * *

_Master Adi Gallia relaxed at last under the heat lamp. Soothing strobes of pink light calmed her nerves and her fingers loosened, then the lines uncreased around her eyes. "Healer Regork, I can't help it. It's been well over a year and I still feel that this new Code is wrong and that I will never fit in." 

"Do you think it iss of the Dark Sside?" Regork was noncommital, as always. Adi liked that about him, almost as much as she liked his heat lamp.

"I think it _might _be."

Regork's fat tail dragged on the carpet. Alone of his kin, he had not lost it to predators or the occasional mating fight. It provided him with walking stability and a good deal of stored nutrition. Its red and black pattern he knew appealed to human infants, because they squealed whenever he visited the nursery. He had a wide snaggle-toothed smile and bright forked tongue that amused them, also. His habit was to pace slowly as his patients reclined on the diagnostic couch, which showed him their respiration rate and alpha brain waves' measurement in a discreet readout behind their sight. Today, Adi's readings remained steady.

"It iss encouraging to hear the word 'might,' Master Gallia. It iss a breakthrough, ssurely, don't you agree?"

"What do you think, Healer? You've been seeing me for fifteen years." _More and more, I don't need you. But you're nice and I like coming here._

_Ssteady waves, good._ "It iss a breakthrough. I am encouraged and you sshould be, too."

Adi opened her eyes, slitting them to allow only faint pulses of pink to shine in them. She was quiet a long time. "I'm encouraged to break out into new directions, Healer. I'm thinking of splitting away from the Order. There are others who think like me."

"What would you d--- I mean, I mean, really? A sschissm, after millenia? Thiss iss a large sstep, Adi." _Alpha wavess true, ssustained. Sshe's committed and hass given thiss much thought._ "Jedi may go it ssolo, as Tssui Choi and the Lady Fay have done, but if they required help, the Order would ssend it."

"I simply dislike the new Code. I was outvoted, me and Plo Koon and Saesee Tiin. If they don't come with me, I'll go alone. I'm ready for a change." She shaded her eyes from the pinkness and smiled pleasantly at Regork. "Isn't that what you say to embrace? 'Change'? I'm ready, Healer."

_You're confiding in me and I can't confide this in anyone elsse. Sstang. _"Be very ssure, Adi. The galaxy iss big and cold and there aren't many heat lampss out there."

"Maybe I'll bring yours along."

"Hahha. It'ss unique. I bought it at auction, wrenched it at the lasst ssecond away from a big dealer. Took all of my sstipend." _It relaxess __**me**__, too._

_I'll miss it. And this office. If these walls could talk ... _"Well, I'm through for today and look! In under fifty minutes!"

"Sso you'll be one of the Losst." _Dooku, then you and maybe otherss._

Adi rose and redonned her headdress. "Maybe it's time to stop that, too." She gazed around the office as if to memorize the setting. "The Ones Who Found Themselves."

Regork slicked his tongue out at her, tasting her scent, the warmth radiating from her glowing clear skin. To him, she appeared more confident than ever. "If and when you make the final decission, I'll sstand with you. You know that." He turned off the lamp, flicked on the couch's sterilizer and walked her to the door. "I may not go with you, but I'll wissh you well, if it comess to that." They exited after dousing the lights.

After several minutes, the heat lamp came back on, strobing as if in code. Its irregular pulses throbbed a dull red.

* * *

Siri plowed her bike downslope into a mound of snow and somersaulted off the seat. She landed directly next to Kenobi and Skywalker. Skywalker cupped his Master's jaw with a growing look of wonder on his handsome face. He skimmed a shaking flesh hand over ribs, arms and hips and then stopped. Siri crashed to her knees beside her fellow Master and took over at the waist. _Is it that bad, no he's still breathing, but what has happened internally, stars' end ..._ She cupped her hands and concentrated. Hips? All right. Thighs? Some mild flaming from a strain to both. In between them, all was well. Knees? Left one sprained ... oh ... _it's the right knee. Wrenched severely._ She ran a hand down each calf, ankle and foot, not wanting to remove armor, cursing a little over the lack of tactile reinforcement to her diagnosis. _That's __**it?**_ She calculated. Twelve kilometers up, free fall, took a break on my bike after he reached terminal velocity in, oh, say, fifteen seconds, hit at an angle in soft material, fell approximately fifty-eight meters per second ... was this possible? 

"Master, he's not so bad off, oh, Master Tachi --- " Skywalker croaked as tears generated no doubt by the beastly cold fell onto Kenobi's bald patch. They rewet the blood on the scalp in front that had dried and turned it sloppy again. _Sorry, Kenobi._

"Don't talk, Skywalker. You're hurt, too. Let me take him. It's hard to believe, but the worst thing is the right knee. Not even broken, though."

"He, oh all right, I'll be right _ughn ow_ behind y-you ... "

"You're staying here. Look, here comes a med team. Don't you move, Skywalker." _I'm ordering the Chosen One. Way to go, Tachi._ "I, I think if you stay still, that would be a good thing." She lifted Kenobi away from the Chosen One, cradling his torso, straightening his crooked knee to parallel the other. "Here they come." A group of clones landed gently as a bouncer next to their General and Commander. Siri hoped that they would have been as solicitous over any injury of hers.

"We'll take it from here, General." The clones clipped stabilization boards around both injured Jedi's necks, heads and backs, turned on the anti-grav attachments and were off. Siri abandoned her faulty speeder and went for news of the battle.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

"Padawan, I will be all right. I feel better this very moment than I have any right to. I can't explain it. I saw a truly beautiful aurora, it pierced me with something that tingled, I don't know what, and I felt like I'd been carried to another plane of being. I blacked out. It might have been the Force, but I remember very little. I woke up here. I feel remarkably _good _now" Obi-Wan's cot was directly next to Anakin's. They both had various monitors clipped to ears and fingers. Obi-Wan's thighs and knees glowed purple in the steri-lamp and the slick bacta phosphoresced. His torn scalp had been slathered with bacta and his hair flattened in sticky clumps behind his ears. Not even bacta could generate immediate hair replacement.

"He did everything right, Commander," Cody said. He didn't look like Cody to Anakin without his armor. Even his black bodysuit with its gription field had been stripped from his powerful body. The slick bacta for his burns made his densely-furred legs look as if he were wearing high-grade veda cloth dress trousers. Cody would have laughed coarsely at even the thought of wearing such quality material. Anakin liked Cody.

The med-tech removed all stabilization boards except the one from Obi-Wan's right knee. "Yes, he did. Only a few have survived falls from such heights and they all had some things in common. They hadn't any injuries before the fall, they fell on something cushioning and they hit at an angle. You'd have not had as much good fortune hitting Kamino's surface, sir. You'd have hit it dead on and there would have been nothing we could have done --- "

"Hrrk. Hrrk." Anakin couldn't talk yet. His throat had been again bruised thoroughly and the sticky bacta sliding down his esophagus clogged his vocal cords on the way. He didn't like the train of thought that the med-tech was starting. "Hrrrrrrrrrk." He wanted to sit upright, but his back was tender yet. He settled for practicing his Masterly glare at the med-tech.

Obi-Wan patted Anakin's hand and then squeezed it. "Yes, I know, but I'm all right. Cody, how goes the battle?"

Cody stared at his General's and his Commander's entwined hands before answering. "Well. Commander Olin and General Tachi have taken the field, the droids have massed inside the facility and it's only a matter of time before our turbolasers punch through. Ought to be over with by tonight or at the latest tomorrow. Right on schedule."

"What I don't understand is why there are no organics commanding the droids. No one uses centrally controlled droids anymore, after Naboo. There ought to have been some priority given to defending this droid factory. It's enormous."

"Yeah, it'll take hours for the turbolasers to penetrate it, sir. I just hope our troops have fewer casualties than last time." Last time on Muunilinst gave Cody nightmares, though he didn't tell anyone but his brother clones about _that._ They had nightmares, they talked it over with their mates. It's what got them through the war. No one much thought about what would happen after the war. It was counterproductive to the current mission. Once, Obi-Wan had been a newly-minted General and had given them a lecture about forming life goals and planning for the future. Profound respect kept them from laughing until the General had vacated the area.

All heads snapped around as the dull booms of artillery fire ceased. Cody smiled, the med-tech smiled and entered the time in his medi-log, but Anakin and Obi-Wan looked troubled. "Hrrrk? Hrr-kaffkaff-feel-something --- "

"Don't talk yet, sir. Give the voice a rest, yes? Oh, and General, sir, news on your preliminary bloodwork. You've shown a ri--- "

"Not yet. Tell me later. Get teams ready. Incoming wounded, something unusual, something ... sorry, not more specific. But something _different_ is on its way." _I can't get up, I can't help out._

_My boys. My brothers. The Jedi._ Cody hobbled to the tent flap. Anakin saw his bunched muscles, the cords in his neck enlarge his hospital smock's neckline. The silence stretched until half an hour had passed. Tiny shrieks like nothing they had heard before grew closer. Anakin and Obi-Wan stirred restlessly, still unable to rise from their sickbeds. Anakin clapped his hands over his ears and Obi-Wan did likewise. A few minutes later, lancer speeder bikes thrummed close to the med tent and all the techs straightened their diagnostic tools, turned down blankets on the cots and prepared for they knew not what. Cody raced outside into the cold, nearly nude as he was and Obi-Wan could hear questions fired rapidly and slow, slurred answers. "In ... our armor, in our helmets, in our f-fucking _rank patches ... _the Jedi hit, too ... "

More and more 105-Ks screamed near the tent, and Anakin could hear piercing shrieks overlying the bikes' screams that made him cover his head with his pillow. "Obi-Wan, what is it?" he rasped.

"Eh, sonics of some brand, never came across them before, _ohhhh it hurts, Anakin_ ... " For Obi-Wan to say that, the pain must have been excrutiating. Anakin reached out with his mechno-hand because that was the one that wasn't trembling, and formed a round hugging shape connected with his flesh arm, just as the med-tech had instructed him to get up the momentum to sit up and then rise to his feet, given his recuperating back. He sat up slowly on the cot, not daring quick moves.

"I'm here. I'll stop it." He lurched to his feet and walked stiff-legged to the tent flap. Cody and the med-techs were doing something astounding. They were ripping off armor, helmets and black bodystockings, boots and even socks from the troops, placing all accoutrements in a large pile on top of a flatbed transport. One by one, the returning troops jettisoned the gear of war and threw everything that they had painstakingly polished and maintained onto an untidy heap. Their eyes were bloodshot, their hands trembled, sometimes too much for them to undo their armor. Cody and the med-techs flitted from trooper to trooper, yanking and unfastening until at last all troopers stumbled and twitched their way over to the med-tent, forming a ragged line while the med-techs triaged. Then Anakin saw his fellow Jedi.

Siri and Ferus fumbled with each other's cloaks with shaking hands, while troopers used their fading strength to aid their commanders. Anakin staggered to their side and gestured for them to take care of themselves. Anakin did the thing that all others were doing without having a glimmer of the reason. He unzipped Siri's unisuit, undid the catch on her lightsaber ring and slid the sleeves down her pale arms, tugging it past her waist and when he bent stiffly to free her legs, she placed a trembling hand on his shoulder while pointing with the other to her ex-Padawan. "Him, too, him _now ... " _Anakin had the disconcerting feeling of something crawling over his hands as he steadied her into the med-tent. He returned for Ferus, whose unfocused gaze frightened Anakin. Feeling his own strength slipping away, Anakin Force-peeled Ferus' tunic, trousers and boots off, throwing them unceremoniously onto the pile with the clones' contributions after salvaging Ferus' lightsaber. He looped an arm around Ferus' waist and walked him slower than he wanted to inside the tent. For Jedi to be affected like this, the menace must have been overwhelming. Anakin could only imagine what the clones were going through. There was none of the usual laughing and bucking up each other's courage, and that bothered him.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

"Kenobi, _hurts."_ Siri sat trembling on the cot at the foot of Obi-Wan's. Her white undergarments were only three shades paler than her goosepimpled skin. "Can't ... concentrate ... 've lost the Force."

"S-Siri, _no._ I c-can feel _something,_ can't _reach ... _" Ferus sat opposite Obi-Wan's right side, head in his hands. His hair, grown long in what nearly all new male human Knights called their 'free at last' phase, brushed the stabilization board still bracing Obi-Wan's reduced knee. The glowing timer affixed to the board said 'two hours until safe removal.' Ferus, too, was pale.

ARC5231 swayed through the med-techs rushing about the tent and drew two smocks from a pile. "H-here, sirs. Can't l-l-let you freeze." He dropped the smocks on Siri's lap and returned to the clones' ward. _Duty's done._ He drew his forearm over his face, trying to sleep all his troubles away. The light from the space heater coils bothered his eyes.

After observing that the transport carried the now-silent armor and clothing to the perimeter of the camp, Anakin wobbled over to his cot and stretched out flat on his aching back. _There's something crawling on me. I can feel it. _On his mechno-arm, a warmth spread from digits to his interface, which sent strange signals to the thinking part of the connection. 'Interference. Interference. Need more shielding.' Anakin turned away painfully from the other Jedi and tugged down his glove, running a thumb over a dial, wrenching it to its maximum capacity. The interface went back to its subliminal mode. At a thought, he turned his attention to his arm again, diving through the shielding to the sensors embedded in his wrist. '_Diagnostic. Input directly to cortex.'_ He had never done this before and braced himself. The reply came as a thoughtful whisper, thanks to foresight in his arm's manufacturers and installers, who anticipated this scenario, it seemed. '_Invasive nanobots. Nanobots impregnated with digoxis. Inimical to carbon-based lifeforms. Warning, Anakin Skywalker. Warning, Anakin Skywalker. Keep three meter distance from nanobots. Invasive nanobots. Nanobots imp --- " _"Be quiet," he whispered back, and the voice stopped. "Nanobots," he said to Obi-Wan. "Chemical warfare using nanobots as a vector to infect troopers and us, too. I sense Grievous' claws in this. Dooku spurns doing actual work, but might have come up with the original idea and left it to Grievous to implement. Dooku wouldn't want his hands to get dirty." Anakin stroked his glove. _"_He still has both of his."

Ferus raised his head. Obi-Wan saw the trickles of dried blood that ran from his ears through Ferus' long hair. "Sonic screamers. We got into the facility too easily. We were cautious, but it was a trap. The droids --- "

" --- the droids fell back, never saw them move so fast." Siri continued. "They were mobility enhanced, somehow, or had wheelies on their feet-simulacra, because we chased them, they boarded their transports in formation and right as I would have signaled for resighting the turbolasers, the screaming started. Got in our clothing, the troopers' helmets, the lads screamed, but tried not to ..." She ran a finger to her left ear, scratching off flakes of blood. "Whatever hit us used sonics-augmented nanobots with digoxis-carriers and implanted them on us. We got disoriented and it was a double whammy, like something that bastard Krayn might have used." She worked her shoulders. "I'm feeling a little better."

"It was a trap, and you sprung the trap. I would have done the same thing myself." Obi-Wan nodded. "Nanobots have limited power supplies. They seem to have hit and hit hard, then run out of energy. You don't feel worse, do you, Ferus?"

"No, sir." Ferus straightened experimentally. "No, but I still feel like I've swum in a swamp and am covered with slime. What must the troopers feel --- "

"We'll do all we can for them. We led them into this." Siri drew her short smock over herself and still shivered. "Kenobi, I p-propose a laying on of the Force."

"I agree. Gather near. I can't move yet, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan restrained himself from scratching the purling bacta on his scalp. It had long since dried and was itching. "Anakin, can you move closer?"

"I'll try. And _please_ don't quote Master Yoda." Anakin rolled over to his right side, stretching out his flesh hand to graze Obi-Wan's waist. Ferus knelt in the narrow space between the cots, then cursed and kicked at the cot. It flew one meter away and toppled and he bowed his head. Siri only looked her disapproval. She knelt next to Ferus and the two of them each took one of Obi-Wan's hands.

Obi-Wan gathered the Force. As a Councilmember, he had done this twice in the past three years and always gained strength from it. Even in his injured state, he anticipated pleasure from a Force-connection with Anakin, since they had no longer a physical connection, at least the way he liked one. He looked up at the camouflage ceiling of the tent and smiled slightly. The Force intensified.

_He can do this. Well, I could, too, if I weren't incapacitated. _Siri felt the power grow in her, felt the effects of the digoxis become bearable and then the last of the spent nanobots fall from her skin. The fine gray metallic dust that gathered near her bare knees was no longer capable of harm. She saw Skywalker's hand rub little circles on Kenobi's waist. _I guess he massages him after battles._

ARC5231 watched from his side of the tent. _They would help us, too, if they could. I don't know how I know this, but I do._ The fasciculations worsened slightly and his cot shook.

Anakin sensed that his back had improved and that Obi-Wan's knee muscles were wrapping themselves more tightly around his loosened patella. Sure enough, the stabilization board now said 'one hour until safe removal.' Around their group, the Force hummed busily. Ferus raised his head and his eyes were no longer bloodshot. Siri shifted her weight on her knees and moaned. "Better, Kenobi. Thanks."

But Obi-Wan continued, pushing his strength past the envelope that Anakin knew so well. He plowed on, a delighted smile growing, his power flexing _its_ muscle, until Obi-Wan sank back with a groan. Anakin felt no back spasms as he leaned far to the side and touched Obi-Wan's throat. "You all right?"

"What ... _was_ that, that was invigorating, my sweet Padawan-dar--- "

"Erm, yes, you seem, ah, refreshed by all of us together and feeding into the synergy don't you think that's what it was?" Anakin heaved a breath to continue. "I'll bet that's what it was. Now you rest. You've got an hour before you can get up. I think we all need to have downtime." He lay flat once more. _They don't need to know our business._

"All right, all right, d--- old friend. I'm thinking fumigating the gear and clothing with _ionized_ dioxis will neutralize the leftover _digoxis_ and then the squadron can use them again. I'm going to tell the med-tech _right now_ so they can get started, help me up ... "

"Corpsman! Drugs here, get the General drugs immediately!"

"Stop that. This is serious."

"So is your health. He'll come, you can tell him. You don't need to do everything yourself."

Siri felt exhausted, not invigorated. _Don't know what they're talking about. _"Ferus, how do _you_ --- oh." Ferus slept, looking much like he had when Siri had looked in upon him nightly before retiring herself. "Good, young Knight. Sleep well." She pulled her smock's gaping neckline shut and tucked up her knees to conserve warmth under her single blanket. _Kenobi and Skywalker, there's something about you two, can't put my f--- "_zzzZZZZzz ... zzzzz ... zz ...zzzz ... "

_Meanwhile, back on Naboo ... _

Palo lay his double chin down on his studio worktable and placed a palm over each eye. He counted to ten. Then he opened his hands quickly to get a fresh impression of the HoloNet image on his holoemitter. Two figures moved and then froze before the loop began again so that he could get a sense of their kineticism, alone and together. He input to his sculpture tablet, he switched perspective, he peered at his work from underneath and from the top. _Good enough. This cannot be holorealism, there must be some artistic presence, enough for a bidder to compare these items to others that he owns. I never thought I'd be doing this for such high stakes. _He deliberately left the bottom of the holocard raw, so that the figure looked as if it emerged from the air rather than appeared as a clear doll with defined feet. Palo nibbled at the chili dumpling that Dorme had left him for lunch and considered his work. _It's art, yes. Not what I would choose to do, but I'm looking to hook a colo claw fish, not a puny opee sea killer. _He swilled some more Corellian spiced ale. _Liquor can only help me here._ He upped the resolution and saved his work. He burped and thought of choosing a pseudonym to hide behind as he picked up a hologame and primed the basic action grid so he could begin anew. _Padme, you're endorsing me for Organa's official holoportrait. It's the least you can do._

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

"Yoda, don't use the Force, please. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Makes life better, does the Force, see that I do, Padme. Always did."

"Do it for me?"

"Agree on this, we do not. But my defiance you do not need."

"Lower, please ... ohhh, there ... _ha_haha ... sorry ... "

"Laughing? _Laughing,_ are you?"

"It's your ... _ears ... _they tickle with the hair ... no, please don't stop ... I apologize ... "

"Bad idea this was. Done it the first way, we should have."

"Let me make it up to you ... I want to, Yoda ... here, let me ... "

"I think not. Stop that."

"But you're ..._ different ... _back there and it's fascinating to me ... just relax ... "

"Fingernails."

"I'll scratch lightly, just like last time, you'll see."

"Hmmmph."

"Shall I go on?"

"Hmmmmph. Talented, you are becoming, Padme."

"Oh, I want something in return."

"Taller, I would be for you, if I could."

"Hush, you're just right. When I think of my ex-h--- exact point, you and I fit together in the best of ways, complementing each other in our views on politics, the Force --- ohh, yes, that's my Jedi --- "

"Patience, you have. Appreciate that in my sunset years, I do. I _must."_

"You're bringing it out in me. I'm getting there."

"As am I, also."

"Mhhhm."

"Together, like that, yes, mmmmm ... "

"Mmmmhhhmmm."

"Fingernails harder."

"Mmmmhhhmmmmm."

"Lips firmer."

"Mmhmmm."

"Ready, are you?"

"Mmm--- yes, yes, more than ready."

"What know you of ready? My own counsel I will keep on who is ready. Spread."

"Now you're going to get back at me for laughing."

"'Get back,' Jedi do not. Enlighten, we do."

"That's the Force, isn't it? I asked you not --- oh. Oh, oh, oh."

"A light touch, the Force can have. One moment of it only, I used."

"It's building, what have you started, ohhhh ... "

"It penetrates us."

"... _nnggghhhhh ... "_

"It binds us."

"Not like that, no, never like that. I'll get up if you do _that_ again."

"My apologies to you. Stop your momentum, I did."

"That other thing, do that again, just a touch like before."

"A whisper on your aura, like this, Padme?"

"Yessss, incredible ... like waves on a beach ..."

"Not too old to learn, I am."

"Hmmmmph."

"Mock me, do not."

"N-never would ... really ready, now ... _please._"

"Warm feelings --- _uhhhhnnn --- _the best kind, they are."

"Warm flesh, better than --- _oh, right __**there**__ --- _plasticine any time."

"Aim to please you in this, I do."

"Aim higher."

"Lift outer leg to back of sofa, you should."

"_Mrrrrghh_ ... Why did we start on the sofa, again?"

"Decided against luncheon, we did. Other appetites came first."

"Palo grasped the plan right away and left early, so we had time to do _this ... ughh ... "_

"Fingernails lower. Inside, then out. Not so deep."

"This makes you faster, but I don't like fast as much as I used to."

"Keep it up, or fail, I might."

"That's not true. That's _impossible. Huuggghhhhhm_ ... "

"Know it to be true, I do. Searched my feelings, I have."

"But ... the _Force ... "_

"Strong in the Force am I, but not _that_ strong! Soon I will need rest, sleep ... for an hour, perhaps."

"L-like last week."

"That face you make. Look I so old, to young eyes?"

"Not when you, _ohhhhh, _are doing this."

"Scratch faster. Twilight is upon us, and night must fall."

"I'm due for dinner with Bail and Breha at seventh hour."

"Already know you that which you need. Let me stretch ... _mphflhll_."

"Ohhhh ... yesss ... "

"The left one, neglect it I will not ... "

"_hmmmmyes ... _ouch!"

"Mark you, I did."

"You're not supposed to mark me _there_. You're supposed to mark my neck."

"Reach your white neck, I cannot. Stop what I am doing, I could --- "

"No! No, maybe later ... you're doing so well, Jedi ... "

"Say my name. Close, I am."

"Yoda."

"Again."

"_Yoda."_

_"Fingernails."_

_"My pit, lick it ... "_

_"Natural, the way I like it ... "_

_"Only for __**you, **__**Yoda!**__"_

_"__**Padme!**__"_

" ... that wind ... I'm cold ... "

"Pay for the window, I shall."

"Like last week."


	7. Chapter 7

"No, I'm _not_ suggesting that Master Yoda has been touched by the Dark Side, Plo! He's not touched by it, he's not touching it. He's just different now since the Code has been massacred."

Plo entered the test results on his scanner. Adi had become less strident in the past two years. _Thanks, Healer Regork. Your work here is done. _"Adi, we are on the Council."

"Yes, and it was an honor for so long that it sustained my belief in myself. But the times are different now. I've fought in the war, as have you. Don't you think we've served enough, given enough?"

_But the Order has given us in return. _"See this lab? How can I leave it, leave my experiments, my work? And when I'm in the field, my pilots depend on me."

"You speak of attachments. You are not indispensable, Plo. Other Jedi are coming up in rank and will replace you."

_True. Cutting, but true. _"Adi, like it or not, we've a responsibility --- "

" --- to ourselves as well. The Force will follow us as we follow it, never fear. Whether we end up as vagabonds like Fay and Choi or lab techs or diplomatic aides, the Force _will_ provide." Adi had never had a vision. She spoke as if she had.

"We are doing well at this point of our lives, as well as can be, considering that the Republic is under siege from the Separatists." Plo perched on a lab stool, his favorite since his Padawanship under Master Tyvokka. Unlike his far-seeing Wookiee Master, Plo Koon had never had a vision of the future. How he wished for Tyvokka's rumbled advice. "Remember on Troiken? We both had our missions, you to protect Valorum and me to rally the Republic's forces. Different missions, same goal. I'm thinking" --- he deliberately angled his upper body towards Adi, remembering that humans needed positive reinforcement with body language, especially when they could not see his visage through his mask --- "that this is the case here." _Master, your memory serves me today. _Plo did something he had rarely done anywhere, and never in his own lab. He took Adi's hands in his, careful to keep his talons curled inward toward his palms. "Like Luminara, my doing the Force's will devolves upon having equipment to aid my senses. I _cannot_ see where I would be better outside the --- "

_"Gooooaaaall! Gooooaaaall! Incoming message for _--- Plo. Koon. --- _from _--- Olanet. --- _flagged _--- Urgent. --- _repeat --- "_

"Excuse me. Priority message from ... Obi-Wan?"

Adi crossed her arms and moved away from the holoemitter. Her body language spoke of tightly-controlled frustration to Plo's discerning eye. He leaned closer to the holoemitter.

"Plo, I need your expertise. I'm out of my element here."

Plo closed his eyes briefly. "Are you hurt? Your old problem?"

"Not me. Many troopers were exposed, along with Master Tachi and Knight Olin, to an agent of chemical warfare. The clones are not responding to any treatment whatsoever from the med-techs. I'm sending you all the data we have."

"And Siri?" Plo remembered her as a raw-boned 'tween on a camping trip to Ragoon-6 where he had been clan guardian. She had done slightly better than he had on accessing the Living Force.

"No outward lasting symptoms to her or Olin. Anakin and I did a laying on of the Force, which reduced their symptoms greatly, and they have done healing trances this entire morning. They are capable of returning to battle, but the clones may never be, according to the latest tests. It's despicable, Plo, it's going to ruin their lives. It might have been better if they'd joined --- "

"Obi-Wan, all data ready to transmit." A black glove came into the holoemitter's range. "Chip activated. It'll be on permanent feed from the field lab, in case there are any new results."

"Chemical warfare. Gas? Fallout? Contaminated water?" Plo's mind churned. _Not another Ohma-D'un._

"Sonic screamers on nanobots covalent bonded with digoxis gas. We fumigated the befouled gear and clothing with ionized dioxis so that it's neutralized, but the agent had already been taken in by them as surely as if they'd inhaled it on purpose. They are remarkably brave, but to see them stumble when they used to march in formation is appalling. Their eardrums will regenerate quickly, the med-techs say. Knight Olin and Master Tachi have already reported that they have repaired their lesser aural damage."

"How did you get the idea to do that fumigation? That's something that would have take _me_ some time --- " Plo had been concentrating on Obi-Wan's response and gave a small jump when Adi approached his side.

"One minute, Master Kenobi. Please put Siri and my Grandpadawan on."

"Master Gallia? Of course. Plo, here's the data and May The Force Be With You." The holoemitter rolled a blue image of horizontally frazzling bars before Siri appeared before her old Master. There was the usual growling sound as the transmittal began.

"Ferus is still healing, Adi. He'd gotten a squirt of the gas in his eyes."

"Progress?"

The holoemitter automatically pulled back its focus as Siri bent over Ferus on his cot, her hand brushing back his forelock. Adi saw Siri's face lean near to Ferus' closed eyes and her lips tightened as Siri's lips grazed the young man's eyelids as if to kiss them, then pulled back. "He'll rouse within the hour. No permanent damage. How are you, Adi?" Siri looked ready to reenter a trance herself. _She needs to look after herself. Nobody will do it for her._

"Well enough. I'm finished seeing Soul Healers for the moment. Only every three months, now."

"Good news! For the Council, for you, for m--- "

"Yes, thanks. It is. And I'll have other news for you soon. You may have some input to that, Siri."

Siri's voice and glance dulled. "I ... see. More of what we discussed before I deployed?"

"Of course. It's important."

"Till we see each other then. I'm tired now, Adi."

"You look it. Rest. We'll talk later. Gallia out." She handed the thrumming holoemitter back to Plo, who placed it carefully down at his lab table. "Maybe we'll talk more later, too, Plo?"

Plo studied the readout that was starting to form above the holoemitter. "Hmmm? Oh. I suppose. Whenever I can find the time. This looks like nothing I've ever seen before. Hand me that datapad, would you? Thanks." He turned his back on Adi, knowing she would not misinterpret his preoccupation for rudeness, at least more than anyone else non-Kel Dor did. He tensed as her hand squeezed his shoulder.

"May The Force Be With You." The timeworn phrase spoke of Adi's determination for future meetings.

Plo nodded and mumbled the farewell response. _I'm asking for a change in seating order in the Council chambers. Something closer to a window for me, and farther away from you. _The holoemitter ended its growling sounds. Plo settled onto his stool for a long session.

* * *

In the messtent, Siri and Ferus tried to regain some sense of well-being by forcing themselves to eat. The meals offered were neither better nor worse than any for the week.

"Anakin said that the Force helped us with reversing the digoxis' effects, but that it would take a Force-sensitive to join in for a laying on of the Force, and the clones aren't, not any of them. If the clones knew, Anakin says, they might feel like second-class Republic soldiers, so he says not to tell them. He's thoughtful that way, Anakin is."

_Ferus, dear, sometimes I believe you were born middle-aged. No traumas that you can't handle, nothing really to lift you out of equanimity. Kicking the cot must have been an anomaly._

"Don't swallow everything he gives you, ex-Padawan-mine."

Ferus continued cutting his nerf steak into ten-millimeter-wide strips as he always did. "What did you mean by that, Siri?" he asked after a time.

"Don't take everything he says at face value. His Master is Kenobi, remember." Siri poured on her favorite hot sauce, the one labelled, "Use With Extreme Caution -- Not For Mon Calamari Younglings." The edges of her meat dripped crimson. She sliced off a slab and ate voraciously. _Protect ex-Padawans. It's been hard-wired into me._

"Anakin and I haven't any problems. That was long ago and now we work together fine. Maybe he had to put on a tough show for all of us when he was growing up, but he's past that now." Ferus defended his fellow Jedi with the earnestness that permeated his every pore. "We've fought together, he helped me put my speeder bike back together after Muunilinst fried it." It was his favorite bike, though if asked to give it up, he would have. He was pleased that no one asked, and that no one noticed the small tasteful decal of a stylized kybuck near the exhaust. The loosened Code had touched even his standards.

Their discussion did not qualify as an argument, but Siri was displeased, nonetheless. She centered herself before speaking again. "Kenobi can twist things and I'll bet Skywalker can, too. Kenobi left the Order for a while, you know."

"I know. He came back, though, and did well enough to be seated on the Council."

"I thought he was all right, too, but after I came back from undercover and found out how difficult it is to remain Jedi when all your fellows aren't about you, I started to doubt his commitment. And then there was the way he treated our Chosen One." Siri attacked her yot beans, made by Cookie into a refried slop with Byss cheese substitute smeared on top. _It's protein. That's about all you can say about it._

"How so?" Ferus stopped chewing.

"Anyone could see that Skywalker was special and needed different treatment. Obi-Wan needed to train him, sure, but not exclusively. I think" --- Siri gulped her drink --- "that Skywalker could have benefited from a female presence more than a male one, at that stage of his life. He had been in a mother/son soul bond --- "

"Ewww, Ma--- Siri!"

" --- hush, you know what I mean --- for all his life. No man at all, regularly anyway. If Master Gallia or _I _could have had his training for part of the time, the boy would not have been so jarred, don't you see?"

Ferus' heavy eyebrows drew low. He put down his knife and spork. "Is that so."

"But right about then, I left to play pirate, Master Gallia began seeing Soul Healer Regork and Skywalker got into trouble with garbage pits," Siri continued heedlessly. "Wouldn't have happened if _I_ had had him."

"I went on hiatus as a Padawan waiting for you to get back and become a Knight so that you could take me on. Does this mean the whole time you were gone, you were thinking of being Anakin's Master and not mine?" Ferus banked his hurt feelings, but Siri had known him for too long not to notice them.

"Ferus, you were an exemplary Padawan. I couldn't have been happier with your progress." _This is just us talking. Or did I misjudge your maturity?_

"It's what anyone might think, hearing you."

"Skywalker is our _Chosen One,_ Ferus! I believed Master Jinn to be correct about that and so did my Master. Both of us wanted to see him treated differently than he was, but Master Gallia was new on the Council and didn't have much say. Maybe now that we have loosened up some, she could have gotten herself heard, but then ... "

"He turned out okay without you or my Grandmaster. He and Master Kenobi make a fine team." _You're making me ... angry? Is that what this is? _

_What?_ "Look, I'm treating you like my friend, talking to you like I can't talk to Kenobi about what happened, what I thought about things ... don't get hurt, now ... "_ Tachi, you've gotten hot under the collar again and blundered. He and the Chosen One were scramball teammates, and he's defending his teammate to me. I don't always get it about bonding. _

_"_I'm not sure I want to talk about this. Anakin is just a Padawan still and maybe we shouldn't. I don't think _I_ ought to, at any rate." Ferus couldn't put it any plainer. _I need to drop the subject before I lose any more control. Siri, you'll make me curse in a minute._

_Shut up, Tachi, and comm Luminara tonight. _"All right, Ferus. Let's go get our clothing back, all right? Those space heaters aren't doing the trick for any of us. I'm still shivering."

Ferus glanced at Siri's chest and then quickly away. He held his tray down low in front of him as he walked to the recycling bin and threw it and his leavings in, keeping his back to her for a long minute. Then he straightened his broad shoulders under his smock and turned around, smiling. "Sure, Siri." _I stood up to her. I'm able to disagree without being disagreeable._

Everything outside was the same. The line had not moved much as troopers tried to get back their individual helmets and bits of armor. Ferus thought that these more individualized clones would have had chances to customize their kit and naturally wanted the results of their efforts returned._ It'll comfort them, since they have no idea that their damage is long-lasting. Or do they?_ From the end of the line to its head, troopers supported each other. When one became dizzy, another supported him, another looked in the pile of gear for him, and another led him back to his unit. The symptoms were not fatal, but the persistence of them depressed Ferus. He glanced sideways at Siri as they shuffled along with all the rest of their squadron. She had refused cuts in the line and smiled a genuine smile at her outfit. Ferus followed her example. The cloaks and tunics, leggings and Siri's unisuit lay mixed with helmets, greaves and cuirasses. He plucked his own gear out, thankful that Anakin had placed his precious lightsaber along with Siri's under their cots. _What a Knight he'll be._

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Anakin sprawled atop a boulder on the slope of the mountain where he had nearly lost Obi-Wan, unfeeling of the cold despite his scant attire. The clouds drew down again, shadowing the valley, making the whitest of nerfs into gray blobs. Their herding beast rested with its mate in the midst of the flock, always attentive, and a lone nerfherder sat playing reed pipes on another wide block of stone half the valley away. Anakin could just hear the melancholy tunes. As if he could see through them physically, he stared toward the clouds in the direction of Siskeen, the gas giant in the system that also contained Olanet. He thought of the most precious thing he had lost, Shmi. _She is under the sand, under a stone. It still hurts after three years, but I think it's hurting less today. Will I feel this way about Obi-Wan, if his time comes before mine? He __**is **__sixteen years older. _He had lost Padme, too, but Padme still survived to do her work, more important work to the galaxy than his own. Jedi worked for all beings, true, but they saw wrongs and worked around them, coming back to the Temple for spiritual recharging, reporting the galaxy's woes in a dispassionate way, tempering their powers to aid a little bit at a time. Padme started committees to end the wrongs on a grand scale. Padme supervised the committees in all their mind-numbing diversity, Gran and Nubians and semi-transparent Praci that even he had problems with looking at straight on, and she remained strong and committed. If Padme had the Force, or a Force-sensitive ally, she could rule the ga--- No. She wouldn't do it, for all her compassion. Her intelligence would warn her that the danger would be too great to become megalomaniacal if she would turn the Republic into an almost-theocracy, though that wasn't quite the right term. _If I hadn't killed Palpatine, she'd still be Senator, that is if she hadn't decided to retire to ... to do ... _What? And what would _he_ retire to? Teach, probably. Obi-Wan's changed image in Anakin's imprinted version of him gnawed at his mind. _Obi-Wan's going through some changes and it's something to do with Siskeen, or the Kaer orbital platform circling it. I feel it. _A vision arose of Obi-Wan falling again, this time in clear space, dropping without Anakin to break his fall. Anakin gasped. He closed his eyes to regroup his senses. After a while he sat up to meditate. Years ago, he would have been off the mountain like a shot, seeing with his own eyes that his Master was safe, but now was different. Now he tapped their bond, felt it strong and sure, and relaxed. But not overly much. He crossed his legs in the lotus position and breathed deeply.

Ferus reached into the Living Force and meditated his tiny headache away. Atop another boulder twenty-five meters in the distance sat Anakin, looking similarly occupied. There was a cool green cast to his aura to Ferus' eyes, a ghostly echo of the planetary sky. On impulse, he scrabbled across the slope, his boots cascading small rivers of gravel downwards. He approached Anakin, a little abashed to interrupt the Chosen One's quietude.

Anakin's long lashes still shaded his cheeks. "Ferus."

"Anakin." Ferus settled against the boulder, crossing his long legs, folding his hands to tuck them into his armpits to warm them. "Colder today."

"Yes." Anakin broke the surface of his meditation, clearing his head and resting in a basal state. It was that state he treasured most, generally lasting less than one minute. Ferus was adding to his contentment, the way Obi-Wan used to after they had had a passion-filled night together. Anakin studied the young Knight from under his lashes, the Jedi his equal in physical stature, his superior in rank, near-equal in age. Their eyes met as Ferus endured the perusal and conducted his own. The clouds parted and the sun burst into brilliance, spotlighting the camp far below and making the small stream that supplied their water sparkle. _Anakin has blue eyes with hints of hazel, never noticed that before._

"You can get your clothing back now."

"Yeah, I get that the med-techs were being super-cautious when they yanked away our robes and Obi-Wan's armor for fumigation."

"They looked panicked. If any Jedi so much as sneezes, the clones go into a tizzy." Ferus sighed. "Maybe they'll be cured soon. At least the damage wasn't fatal."

"Obi-Wan had been pessimistic before our laying on of the Force, then he brightened right up. I'm trying to figure it out."

"I'll leave."

"No, you don't have to. I've already worked on it. I do best in baby steps, sometimes. Think about things, meditate, put it away for awhile."

"How do you and Master Kenobi get along so well?" Ferus blurted.

Anakin saw how the gold streak in Ferus' hair was styled like Obi-Wan's auburn glory, falling forward in an endearing flop. For the first time, he spied a thread of silver in it. _It's the war. We've changed. _He stretched out a hand to his former and forever teammate and hauled him up to sit beside him on the boulder. "Who says we do?"

"Well, everyone. At least lately." _Not when we were little._

Anakin's grin turned into a wide smile. "We're ordinary, Ferus. We have fights like all couples."

'_Couples?' Oh. Oh! _"Erm, well, uh, you handle them superbly. _I_ never guessed."

_Now I know how Master Yoda feels. Questions, questions. _"All it's like is, is getting along together, give and take. Obi-Wan is better at some things than I am, well, nearly everything else, and I know better than he does about other ... stuff." _My dream-purpose. Have not meditated on that in a long while._

Ferus lay back on the cool boulder, folding his arms under his head. "If things were now like they were years ago in the Order, you wouldn't be able to get away with calling him 'Obi-Wan' since you're still a Padawan."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"No, I didn't mean anything by --- "

"It hurts, sometimes. Other times, I don't really care. It happened because of some things two years ago that I did and I agree with Master Yoda's ... assessment of me and of the situation, I do." Anakin lay alongside Ferus. It helped that they looked up at the scattering flyaway clouds and not at each other. "But I'm human."

"You're our Chosen One." It was a statement of fact.

"Nevertheless, I'm human, I'm in the Order as the oldest Padawan." _What could be wrong between you and Master Tachi that you've come to me? Better to go to Obi-Wan._ "Something on your mind, Ferus?"

"This will sound stupid, but Siri thinks that you could have benefited by her or another female's influence when you first got here, at nine. I think you're all right, and I told her. I managed to hold in my temper."

"Temper, _you_?"

_Why does everyone say that? "Yeah,_ me. Why do you ask that? I'm just as human as you are."_ What could have happened for him to be disciplined? Do I want to know?_ "Whatever it was two years ago, you won't be a Padawan forever. I've heard rumors that the war is winding down. Master Yoda is working very closely with the Supreme Chancellor and the Vice-Chancellor in particular to gain control over Dooku and Grievous."

"Grievous can't be controlled. The nanobots were his invention, I'm certain of it, and it was a public relations coup for the Separatists that they developed a weapon that uses our resources, clones and medical personnel, incapacitates them both so that med techs and medical centers must care for them longterm. Unless Master Koon discovers a cure, the troopers will never be able to return to combat, they'll live curtailed lives until the clones' lifespans end, maybe in as little as ten years. I don't think Dooku, for all his cruelty, could have thought up something that time-consuming or far-reaching. Dooku wants to win right now."

Ferus lay on his side, wrist propping up his cheek. Anakin smelled his aftershave. "Anakin, Dooku was a Jedi and now he's Fallen. He might want to win right now, but he's not above thinking evil thoughts that resulted in evil actions like condemning the clones to 'peripheral neuropathy,' I think I heard the med-techs call it. Grievous crushes his enemies to bits, Dooku hates them but he just wants them out of the way quickly so that he can push his so-called 'ideals' onto the Republic."

"So you think Dooku is _worse_ than Grievous because Dooku was once Jedi?" Anakin found the cyborg worse than Dooku, merely because Anakin's own hand and arm made him realize how much he had in common with Grievous, the feel of metal where there once had been living flesh. Anakin experienced a grim sort of fun with his arm and his mods to it afforded his own imagination room to soar. From time to time he thought of wielding a built-in weapon so that he would never lose his lightsaber again; the thoughts of any circumstances where he _would_ lose it made him shiver. Then there was the whole matter of relearning balance, implementing new katas to reinforce his style, coming up with a completely new form to utilize the strengths of the built-in aspect of the 'saber ... no. Maybe when the war ended, as it surely _must_ this year, he would experiment in the salles like Plo Koon did in his laboratory.

Ferus threw his cloak over Anakin's bare calves. "Remember what Coach said, don't cramp up."

Anakin smiled into Ferus' eyes. "Thanks, Flank Middy."

Ferus smiled back, then sobered. "But about Dooku, I think his background as a wealthy person might warp his priorities. He'll want to keep most of that wealth for himself, even though he has billions of credits. He'll not want to spend much on anything to help his side if it will mean hurting himself."

"Or it might mean that all those years of Jedi parsimony burned into his habits."

"Ha, ha! I h-hadn't looked at that way, Anakin."

"Feel good enough to wrestle?"

"No, not real--- "

"We'll be gentle. I could strengthen my back, got a little stiff --- "

"Basic stuff, okay, I can handle that."

The two Jedi slid down from the boulder onto a small level patch of velvety new grass. They squared off. "One for the credits, two for the show, three to get ready and go, Jedi, go!" They grappled at half-strength, tender with each others' limitations. Ferus did sweep a leg to knock Anakin off his feet, but Anakin bounced back up and headlocked Ferus, who elbowed Anakin in the stomach. From there on out, they worked up a light sweat before stopping, gasping for air, laughing like the two young warriors they were. "Come on, let's get your clothes, Anakin."

"All right. I _am_ feeling chilled, now."

"Here." Ferus draped his cloak over Anakin's shoulders, just barely making a cover over his flesh arm while allowing the mechno-arm to fend for itself. He flung the rest of the cloak over himself. They started back down the mountain, pressed tightly together, walking in tandem. The nerfherder continued playing.

* * *

_What __**are**__ they doing up there? Our bond is flat. I know he touched it at one point. _Obi-Wan strained his eyes towards the two young Jedi. Siri stepped up beside him. She had wrapped her cloak over her fumigated unisuit so that only her head and boots were visible. "It's cold. They need to come down before the sun sets."

"They're coming now."

Siri squinted. "Can you see that well? I can't."

"Maybe you're still a bit under the weather, Master Tachi."

"You can call me 'Siri.'"

Obi-Wan glanced sideways at her. "That will be a tough habit to break after all these years ... Master Tachi."

"Kenobi, I just realized something about how lucky we are to have those two young men in our lives. It gives us something in common."

"There's no such thing as luck."

"Have it your own way. They're the next generation of Jedi. I want to set a better example for Ferus. Help me out here?"

"He's not your Padawan any longer. He has other influences than you."

_That's right, start a fight. Take us back to square one._ Siri drew three calming breaths. "I might join the Force tomorrow. _You_ might join the Force tomorrow. Think about _that,_ Master Kenobi." She turned to go back inside the med-tech tent, where the techs wanted yet another blood sample for their ongoing stream of data to Plo Koon's lab.

_I'm feeling better than I have in over two years. I'm not letting this throw me._ "It's 'Obi-Wan.' If you wish it."

"Well, _thanks." _Siri resisted the urge to sniff. _I'll take it. _"Luminara, our_ mutual _friend pointed out something when I talked to her just now. We won't be taking on any new Padawans until the war ends. We can't bring 'tweens with us out here and it's not --- it wouldn't _be_ right to pick them and then abandon them. It might be some time before we can be at the Temple for them in their first year or so, getting them used to training with us." _Luminara, thanks for this tip on how to broach this subject. _

"So we should be grateful for my Anakin and your Ferus?" _Well, this is new, coming from you._

"Yes. And on Olanet, until we four leave it which should be soon, we can ... be comrades. Like Jedi ought to be." _That's it. I've given in enough. Your turn, Kenobi._

_Maybe. I'm not getting any younger and grudges take a lot of energy. _"Here they come," he waffled. "They look like twins at this distance, don't they?"

"Remember their first trip to the scramball finals? They roomed together on Euceron." _Ferus was seventeen._

_Anakin caught a cold from Ferus._ "Yes. Their first big trip with the team. You were chaperon."

"I like sports."

"I do, too."

Both young men had contented, pleasantly-tired auras, Obi-Wan noticed. "General Kenobi, where's Anakin's gear?" Ferus gestured towards Anakin's feet in their regulation sickcall slippers. "He's needing more than _this --- "_

"Here, I've got all of it. Padawan, they need another sample --- "

A swarthy face appeared at the open tent-flap. "General, sir, before you return to your cabin for the night, I'd like to discuss your bloodw--- "

"I am feeling just fine, thank you. Another time, please, tech. Anakin, give them what they want and let's leave."

* * *

_Meanwhile, in hyperspace ... _

_"Again." _Grievous blanked all thought and pirouetted on one foot, raising his two lightsabers overhead in a whirling ball of light. He kept spinning like a gyroscope, the weight-bearing foot scraping the Sheathipede-class transport's durasteel deck in a way that he knew drove Dooku mad. He spun faster, nearly making sparks.

"And extend your extremities ... _now."_

_I'll pretend I cannot hear over all the screeching. _Grievous continued whirling, moving his lightsabers back and forth to create a mesmerizing effect. He added a graceful tilt.

_**"Extend extremities this instant."**_ The command enhanced by the Force, there was no way that Grievous could deceive Dooku any longer. He extended one foot down low to build his equilibrium and then followed the movement with his arms also held low, but the balance was fatally compromised and he began a swaying back and forth that could only end in a topple, which it did. He pulled his dignity around him as he locked the upper set of arms into the lower ones. The duranium foot had gained friction heat during his many revolutions, but it would not do to hop about in front of the Count. _A pointless exercise in my humiliation. Dooku, your time on this physical plane is limited. _Grievous sketched a shallow bow.

"Milord, the maneuver was unique. May I ask what enemies we are anticipating by whirling in this fashion? Is the plan to mesmerize them with the lights, or induce neurological fits with the strobing?"

"It is enough that I ask you to do the exercise. I trained you and will continue to train you. You are at my disposal at all times, is that clear?" _That's an entirely possible scenario. I had thought only to debase him, but his mind truly is inventive. The nanobots proved that._ "You're to man the Kaer orbital platform. I've decided to implement the crystal cloning of droids whose plans the Kaminoans graciously donated to our grand Cause."

"Surely milord recalls that Kamino is now Republic territory. The cloners will not be on hand should we encounter problems, which is likely with any new project of this magnitude." _Could I acquire an upgrade to crystal? _

"I have faith in you. I trained you. You _shall_ prevail." _You're such a bore with your puny collection of lightsabers. Good riddance to you. _"Take this transport. Drop me off at Serenno. A communique of the utmost urgency awaits me there." _I made the list of privileged bidders in the select auction. _

_He's got that greedy gleam in his eye again. Lord Sidious, your evil was purer than his. _"And your staff could not forward the message on to you here, while you are conducting my important training exercise? Shall I behead them for you, milord?"

"I shall consider it. Your devotion to duty is to be commended. You may pilot me to my home now." _Time for a liedown. My age demands it, and Serenno's custom of afternoon naps I heartily condone. _"I shall retire to study our battle strategy on Olanet. A great success deserves more study."

"By your command, milord."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Obi-Wan could have sworn that the _naynabo_ flower tattoo on Anakin's right nipple winked at him. He glanced down at his holoemitter and away from temptation. "Siri, when we leave tomorrow, is there anything that we need from the droid facility to take along?"

Siri's face looked haggard even in blue. "I don't think so. The med-techs saved the nanobot remains, such as they are. Maybe the Analysis Room can make something of them. Recon patrols report nothing out of place over there. It's was a right fine trap." She looked off-range. "Ferus, any hot water in yet?"

"No. I'm checking under the flooring near the tank, but noth-- " Ferus' voice faded.

"What about your side, Ke-- Obi-Wan?"

Anakin nodded. "Plent-- "

"Padawan, check our firewood supply, please?" Anakin undid his towel from his waist, gave a last dab at his neck and donned fresh undergarments. Obi-Wan looked down, away, anywhere but at what he could no longer have.

"We've both bathed. It'll take some minutes before it heats up again."

"I suppose these cabins were constructed for only one nerfherder at a time." Siri brushed cobwebs from Ferus' hair. _He could use a warm shower._

"Yes, probably." _Don't presume. Anakin needs his rest._

"How about it, then? Can we sneak in before we retire and use yours?" _Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Tachi._

_Be Jedi-like. Be ... forgiving._ "Give us a couple minutes and knock first. Bring your own towels."

"Wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks. See you in a few."

Anakin pulled on his one spare tunic. _Obi-Wan never wanted me to wear socks to bed, but I guess it doesn't matter now, since we'll never have s-- _"You've changed with Master Tachi. And for the better."

"We've reached a new plateau, yes. Time will tell whether it's sustainable." _Some things are better off in the past, Padawan. _

_I don't have to know everything. _"Well, that's a good thing. Ferus keeps Siri close to him, sometimes too close, maybe."

"Do you think they haven't yet, um, 'cut the braid,' as the saying goes?" Obi-Wan faced away from Anakin as he undid his own towel and dressed in his cold-planet sleeping outfit of undergarments, socks, leggings and loosened tunics. He looked at his own left nipple. _Hello, little flower. It was good while it lasted._ He covered his chest quickly and slid in beside Anakin's blanketed form, dragging the over blanket up to bundle them both.

"Yeah, they have, but they've not yet had separate missions since his Knighting. He still looks to her for -- "

_Knock-knock-knock._

"I should have asked you first if it was all right that they come, I'm sorry, Anakin, I wasn't thinking -- "

"Don't be silly, Obi-Wan. I'm always up for company." _Except for when I'm not._

_'Up for'... oh ... _"Come in." Obi-Wan forced himself past neutrality and towards etiquette. He smiled. "Siri, Ferus, it's all yours."

"Ferus, there's no soap tray so don't drop the soap while you're in there. You can't bend down without your head opening the door. Olaneti are _really _small-boned people. Master Tachi, you won't have any problems." Anakin yawned. "Excuse me."

"Yes, let's do this thing, Ferus. You first." Siri pushed Ferus' back and sat down on the floor to wait. Ferus threw a half-annoyed look over his shoulder, but opened the 'fresher door. Steam from Anakin's shower still lingered. He waved his hand through the condensation and entered.

Obi-Wan felt Anakin's rhythmic breathing through the layers of clothing and blankets and wished for their usual solitude. _Talk shop._ "Did you notice anything unusual while you were following my trajectory?"

"You weren't looking out well enough for rocks. If you'd hit a snow-covered slab of granite, we wouldn't be talking about it."

"I mean up near the stratosphere."

"We weren't up high enough for the stratosphere. Olanet's stratosphere starts at --"

_Breathe. Breathe. _"I _mean,_ Siri, _near _the apogee of my flight, did you sense anything unusual about the aurora up there?"

"I was focused on you. On saving you." _Your 'flight?' You mean your runaway jaunt that nearly threw us prematurely into the Force?_

_Breathe. _"You did save me, you and Anakin. And I'm grateful." Anakin began to snore softly.

"You're welcome. Sorry about your hair."

"It doesn't hurt now."

"Good." The flow of water stopped and Obi-Wan could hear Ferus rustling about in the cramped space, undoubtedly dressing in the warmth. The logs on the andirons glowed a friendly red. Siri leaned her head back against a burl in the wood. "What were you asking me those questions for?"

"I'm not sure. Against all odds, I feel energized and simply _different._ Maybe it's the thrill of surviving, I don't know."

"Next!" Another puff of steam and Ferus reentered in stocking feet. "Thanks, Master Kenobi. Anakin, you awake?" A louder snort, then a _hrhrmmguh_ sound as Anakin turned over, pulling the over blanket from Obi-Wan's side. He pulled his part back and covered Anakin's throat securely.

Siri smiled at their sleeping arrangements. "Ferus and I did that, too, especially last night." She began her shower.

"Anakin and I had a chance to wrestle, Master Kenobi. I don't know who would win if we were ever serious about it." Ferus sat on the floor next to Anakin and spoke in a considerate whisper.

"I'm pleased you are with us on Olanet, Ferus. Apart from your fighting ability, that is. You _and_ Siri are a fine team of warriors."

Ferus' face couldn't be seen in the weak room light. "I look forward to ending the fighting, Master Kenobi. To being not a warrior."

"Yes, it wasn't what we were trained for, at least not completely. Diplomacy will resume at the treaty table, never fear."

Ferus seemed to wilt. "How much longer?"

"I have a bad feeling that it will be months before any peace talks begin."

"And until then, we fight and struggle and put our altruistic feelings aside, our feelings of _kinship_ with others ... any other beings, I mean, Jedi or non-Jedi or gray Jedi or even Sith ... " Anakin's blanket had slipped down once more and Ferus tucked it in again.

Obi-Wan couldn't answer for a moment. "_Sith?"_

_"_I'm speaking of them as fellow beings, you know, misguided beings, of course. I hold no Separatist leanings, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan was sure that Ferus was smiling. "Had me there, Ferus."

"I'm just talking. Anakin and I talked this afternoon. He's a good listener."

_And you and he are the same age for all intents and purposes. Hmmm. _"He's kind."

"Let's go, Ferus. Thanks again, Obi-Wan, Anakin. Oohhh, he's out for the count." Siri's wet hair dripped and she shook her head. A few drops spilled onto the logs and they spat. "Dawn tomorrow, meet you in the messtent for chow and we'll mount up afterwards." _Out into the cold again, not looking forward to it ... _

_Those terms, 'chow,' 'mount up,' how easily they spring from our lips after three years. _"You don't have to leave. Stay. We can all bundle." Obi-Wan gestured. "Body warmth, the fire, the steam from the showers, we'll be snug enough."

_Unexpected. _"Can we turn on one space heater? That would help."

Ferus was already bedding himself near Anakin's outflung flesh arm. "Generous, thanks, sir. Shove over, Advance Middy."

Anakin said, "Mubblemast-- " and lay flat.

Siri placed the space heater in a far corner. "It's rigged to come on innnnn ... fifty minutes." She lay down next to Obi-Wan. "You two get the middle, since you're the hosts. Right, Ferus?"

"Yes. Ohhh, _yes_." Ferus rubbed his stockinged feet together. "I'm warmer already. Good night, Siri, Master Kenobi ... Anakin."

_"Rrrrsnortgrumpf."_

"Good night, all." _It was the Jedi thing to do, it was. _Obi-Wan's beard kept his face from getting wet from Siri's hair when Siri flipped herself over to spoon outwards, her back against his front. _It was._

_Meanwhile, back on Coruscant ..._

"First step of the plan, complete now. Palo, swift worker he is." Yoda picked up a framed two-dimensional representation of himself, slightly larger than life. "Fierce, I look. I like it not."

Padme smiled at him. "Yoda, you _are _fierce. And romantic. And wise." She knelt to look at the invoice etched in the box's side by time-sensitive graphics. Once its destination was reached, the box automatically signaled for pickup. _NabooExpress _had won awards for its service and had recently branched out to other planets. _For something like this, I like fast._ "These are on a par with the best of the line of, um, art like this. Our next step will take cooperation from many Jedi."

"Handle them, I will. Keep it secret, we must. Will think of a reason for them to cooperate."

Padme rested her buttocks on her heels and folded her hands. "I'm going to start a museum dedicated to Jedi artifacts, ones that aren't holocrons or anything else holy."

"'Holy?' Holy, our holocrons are not. Useful tools, they are. Force-users record their lives and thoughts and deeds in them, but 'holy?' No." Yoda lay his scaled palm on Padme's white shoulder, exposed by the scoop neckline of her springtime gown. "The Force, our ally and a powerful one it is. Need to discuss this subject, we do."

Padme shifted away from his touch. "It makes me nervous, all that power that I can't use. I see you and the other Jedi use it and it frightens me. It awes me."

"Frightened, were you, when I used the Force to -- "

_"No! _That was marvelous, the best I've had -- " _Padme, you're not thinking straight. And you're offending him._

_Hurts, it does, that she does not understand. Good relations with the Vice-Chancellor, I thought I had. _"Speak of this later, we will. Museum, you say?"

"I was fooling, just thinking of a reason to tell them -- didn't my aura _say_ I was insincere?"

"Read non-Jedi that well, sometimes I do not. But returning to the idea itself, good one it is. Many Jedi have become heroes to Republic citizens, not anonymous as we once were." _The Hero With No Fear and the Negotiator, prime examples. Deserve their glory they do, but ... _

_Change the subject. _"Oh, look, Yoda! Palo included a figurine of me when I was Queen!" The bisque solid piece had the curving headdress and tassels reproduced perfectly, along with a delicately painted white face complete with the scar of remembrance. A scatter of aurodium dust over all folds of the ornate gown made Padme smile. "It's exquisite! And here's a note. 'For the Vice-Chancellor. From an ex-politician. Palo.' How sweet. He is a thoughtful person. Dorme is lucky."

"Wistful, you look."

Padme laughed. "I'm fooling again."

"This time, you are _not_." Yoda flourished a holopen from somewhere up his sleeve. "Make it special, Padme of Naboo."

Padme said, "But this is only for me, as a gift. Why should I sign it?"

"Sign and date such gifts of the heart. Remember this day, you shall, when years later, you cherish your souvenir. Sign." Yoda folded both hands on his gimer stick and looked every bit the inscrutable Jedi Master. "Wait, I will. Do it."

_Ordering me?_ "It's a good idea, so I will." _Padme Naberrie, Queen Amidala, _she inscribed on the square base, and dated it. "But I'll not let you get away with ordering me again."

"Partnership, we have, Padme. Sometimes you order me, sometimes I order you. For months now, this way it has been." _Queenly, she looks today, but besotted, I never will be._

"It's worked out, yes. However you made me tingle when you first touched my arm at Dex's, I'm glad you did."

"Not _my _doing."

"Don't scare me like that! Here, take the holopen and sign your likeness." She thrust the holopen at him. _Yoda knows Dooku so well. This is a marvelous plan._

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Home. Home, home, home. Back to meetings, debriefings, more meetings and ... the salles. Two weeks after their return to the Jedi Temple, Anakin pulled his opposite foot back with a _crack! _with his mechno-hand, then repeated the stretch with his flesh hand. He bent, he squatted, he walked up the wall and back-flipped. Opposite the padded wall containing the door, Obi-Wan flexed, walked on his hands, spun on his back and whipped himself to his feet using a triple spin. Bemused, Anakin observed his Master. "Ready?" he asked.

"In a Coruscant minute." Obi-Wan glowed with health and had insisted on wearing loincloths for this warmup wrestling match. Later on in the day, Soara Antana had promised to show them what she had been working on for the past week. She had been coy about what it had been. "All the bettah to tease you with," she'd said, and made them grin with her adoption of a Neimoidian accent. Geonosis had eased her sense of humor until it resembled Clee Rhara's, Obi-Wan thought. That, or Soara hung out too much with Ry-Gaul, whose taciturnity would make anyone overcompensate. Obi-Wan loosened his loincloth to a dangerous level.

"Um, Obi-Wan, you might lose your clothes if I get the advantage ... " Anakin didn't want to think of the distraction that this would cause.

"I don't think so. I'm prepared to trounce you this morning." Obi-Wan's wide, white smile gleamed. "Ready."

"_Trounce_ away." With no further words, the two lunged at each other's ankles for a trip and went immediately to floor work, straining for a quick win. _Oh, __**submission**__ grappling? All right, Master._ Anakin had patented his leglock, but Obi-Wan was wilier this morning than Anakin had ever seen him. He dove immediately to choke Anakin in an advanced move, but Anakin wanted to draw out the combat for exercise's sake. Anakin rolled as if down an Olaneti slope, eluding Obi-Wan's grasp. Before he stopped revolving, Obi-Wan crawled over the mat faster than a suubatar could gallop and joined in the roll, ending with Anakin on top, face to face. Anakin looked down at forbidden beard-dusted lips and paused, fatally. Quicker than lightning, Obi-Wan hardly seemed to strain as he rolled to his left side, sliding a rock-hard muscled left leg across Anakin's midsection, rolling Anakin on top of him back to chest as he hooked the ankle of the crushing left leg behind the knee of his own bent right leg. He squeezed and Anakin grunted, Obi-Wan used the momentary laxness of his opponent to slip his left foot in between Anakin's legs, from the back. _I bound myself up tightly in the loincloth, Obi-Wan, but __**don't**__ dig with your toenails or something important might be injured. _In the meantime, Obi-Wan's muscled left arm firmed Anakin's head in a choke-hold while his right arm braced itself flat on the mat for balance. Obi-Wan squeezed tighter.

_I bet Ferus doesn't know this move._ Obi-Wan tempered his strength with just the right amount of caution. This move could be deadly with a snap of the head to the side to break the pivot vertebra, it could be debilitating to a serious degree with a rough move against an opponent's privates, it could crush a spleen with a Force-pressure of an encircling leg. Obi-Wan held Anakin as tightly as he ever had, even in the drowning brown waters of the River Trow. _I win._

Anakin slapped the mat. That was all that it took for Obi-Wan to release him. They remained silent as they headed for the showers.

"Good match." Anakin placed his arm neatly on the bench, grabbed Obi-Wan's elbow as Obi-Wan was about to enter the shower cubicle. "Tell me about that hold. You felt like an anakkona with a mad on."

"You're close." They walked side by side into the cubicle, said, "On!" and the showers started. Sonics hummed and Anakin and Obi-Wan turned slowly in front of the emitters, raising and lowering arms and legs to ensure cleansing of every crevice. Anakin's stump buzzed pleasantly with the vibrations. They ruffled each other's hair and bent and spread at the end, palms on knees.

"So what's the move called?"

"The Anakkona Rear Mount."

"Oh. Train me in it?"

"You know I will." Obi-Wan straightened up before Anakin did. He backed up to the sonic emitter's four-head stand as if to clean off some lingering sweat from the back of his head, slyly hiding something behind his back. "Anakin."

"What, M---aaahhh! No!" Anakin fled from the handheld sonic gun used for even more thorough washes, ordinarily held in its clip on the circular showerstand. The Padawan raced around Saesee Tiin's bulk, who was just beginning his ablutions with horns lowered. The Iktotchi glowered at the two Jedi chasing each other, grumbling deep in his throat as the sonics distracted him from saying something negative. He turned his back on the emitter and worked his powerful weathered neck muscles with his hands. _Maybe Adi is right._

_Gotyou, gotyou ... where did you go? _Obi-Wan glanced up just in time to see Anakin leap off the tiled divider wall to land directly in front of him. "Stop, please. I give."

"Again? Where's your compet---"

"We're both going out tonight and it's time to meet Master Antana. Play later?" _Something like Force sabacc, something ... tamer._

"Spoilsport. All right then." _I'm feeling bumptious, don't know why. Did I embarrass myself in front of Tiin?_

After they dressed in their standard tunics and sparred briefly, Soara met them back in the salles, coming through the doors with an outstretched hand, the base of a holoemitter with bright markings resting on her saber-callused skin. "Obi-Wan, I've been honored."

Obi-Wan handled the holoemitter, reading the script aloud. "'Test your lightsaber skills with the best. Be a Jedi, be a Force-sensitive, be Force-blind, build any avatar that you wish to spar with the renowned ... Master Soara Antana. Parents' permission required. Not for younglings under the age of five.'"

Anakin itched to get his hands on it. "May I, Obi-Wan?"

"It _is_ your area of expertise."

Anakin looked it up and down before glancing for affirmation at Soara, who nodded. He thumbed the base switch, and a hand-sized Soara jiggled in a low-cut tunic, waving her lightsaber dangerously near her legs. "Artistic license, you understand, but wait until he activates it. Go ahead, Padawan." Soara's face showed her pleasure as her avatar bounced, backflipped, thrust and parried and riposted, never mussing her hair. "Well, Obi-Wan?"

_It's not Jedi-like._ "How ... interesting. A prototype for Initi---" _No, it said 'parents.'_ "Well, I don't know what to say, but _you_ seem pleased, so I am."

"Thanks. It is for the Vice-Chancellor's new Jedi Children's Museum, an interactive display room for younglings of all species to learn more about what we do. You know, the revised Code? Be more open with the public?"

"Master Yoda approves?"

"Well, of course he does. He's working _very_ closely for months with the Vice Chancellor to push the funding through, even if we are at war." Soara placed her holoemitter in a padded pouch and squared off with the two Jedi. "Two on one, what do you say?" She bounced on her heels.

"You're on." Our meeting with Master Yoda tomorrow should be quite interesting, Obi-Wan thought as he took his stance.

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly.

_Later that day ..._

Siri palmed open the door to her quarters, thinking that Jedi, one and all, were devoted to good manners. Even Dooku would probably offer them a cup of kopi tea and some longbread biscuits before discussion the manner of their execution. Nearly every problem could be solved if eve_ry_one had good mann_ers_, she remembered a pre-Padawan Kenobi saying in a squeaky, changing voice. Siri liked the Jedi as well as she respected the Code, even its new version that Master Adi despised. When she asked Adi why she found no common ground between revised and old Code, Adi had said that change ought to be discussed, thought about, discussed some more, and then accepted or rejected. After one year, Adi had rejected the new Code. "It's based on self, just like the Sith code. It elevates the self up to the status of an ideal, when none of our 'selves' should be."

"'Should' is shit."

"Who taught you that? 'Should' is what makes us rise above our natures. Where did you learn such things? _Not_ from me." Adi hadn't been irrational these past fifteen years since Qui-Gon's passing, but she had definitely gained an edge. It made her a better pilot, but a poorer ambassador. Adi's diplomat parents would have been disappointed, in Siri's opinion.

And tonight would be more of the same, Siri thought dispiritedly as she eased into an evening outfit. _She won't like this, just like she doesn't approve of the unisuit. Tough yot beans._ She had barely tied the loose sash to her black septsilk tunic when the door chimed. _I've got plans, Master. Don't ruin my mood._

"Good evening, Siri."

"Good evening, Adi." Adi spotted the untidy pile of clothing on the sofa and raised her eyebrows. Siri flipped the pile onto a chair. "I'll tidy up later. Drink?"

"No. No, thanks. You're looking better than on Olanet."

"It was a campaign, we sort of won and we sort of lost. The Separatists are off the planet, Adi, but the cost to the clones was nothing to ignore. The lab reports haven't helped Plo much."

_So that's why he's been avoiding me._ "I know how hard a worker he is." Adi noted the level of liquor in the decanter that her ex-Padawan poured with a deft hand. It was half-full. _And half-empty._ "I saw them at the barracks."

"When?"

"Yesterday. It's good for the Masters who are in-Temple to Visit The Sick, even if they are clones. I feel like they are an extension of the Jedi, somehow." Adi smoothed her headdress.

"You _do?"_ _This, I did not expect. Give me another._ Siri poured a half-thimbleful of her favorite liquor, Whyren's Reserve Special Distillation Number Eighteen.

"And why not? We are responsible for their very being. I must say, they put on a pitiful showing, stumbling and trembling in their bad cases of nerves. I _did_ so want to try to help them into Force healing trances."

_So we agree on something._ "That was part of your duties, you say." She downed the drink and relaxed.

"Yes, it is, and I wanted to do it, too. I might be saying farewell to them soon, Siri, just like we talked about last month."

_Here we go._ "You sound convinced it's the correct path."

"It's right for me and I hope it will be right for you. Just now, off this campaign, you've given your all to the Order." _Protect an ex-Padawan, it's been hard-wired into me._

"No, I haven't, and I don't want to leave, Adi. I spent weeks thinking things over after I came out of deep cover all those years ago and I decided to stay with the Order. It's not perfect, but it's home. The Code --- "

"We can't seem to agree about the new Code." Adi stiffened.

"I guess not." _Master, I'll not let you bring me down. I'm having fun tonight. _"Obi-Wan's coming over in a bit. We're ordering sliders from Dex's and watching two vids."

"_Two_? That will be a late night for you, Siri." _Blast that Code. Discipline has gone all to pieces in the Order._

"Ohhhh ... mmm ... sometime, maybe you and I could --- "

_Maybe, before I leave. _"It could be entertaining. But only one per evening."

"He'll be here shortly, Adi. Sure you don't want a little something before you leave?" _Gentle, gentle._

_I can take a hint. _"I'm fine. Enjoy your evening. Good night, Siri."

"Good night, Adi." _That wasn't too bad. And she'd never leave for good without saying goodbye. _Siri and Adi did not linger over farewells in the doorway. It had never been their style.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

"I feel up for _anything_," said Obi-Wan. He looked it, Anakin thought as he straightened his own obi. He buckled on his belt and looked down at his boots. _Need a shine. Ahhh, Ferus won't mind._

"You're warming up to Master Tachi, I take it?"

"I feel like I'm getting to know her all over again from when we were Initiates. I _am._ She has a remarkable holovid collection, she's seen every one of my favorite horror vids _and_ the last time we watched a retrospective, she and I quoted lines back at the cast. I wanted to change to 'interactive' with the characters and step into the vid with them, but she said 'no, let's keep it private,' just between the two of us, you know." Obi-Wan massaged his healed scalp with its growing fuzz of hair gingerly. "_This_ is annoying. She knows how I got it, she even _did_ it, but it looks ridiculous." He poked at it, he parted it --- _worse ---_ and gave up.

_Why is my easy-in-his-skin Master fussing? _"It's just a little uneven. It'll grow out soon. Patience."

"How would you like it if someone yanked off your braid?" Obi-Wan granted that the comparison was hardly equal. _This isn't battle nerves, but it's similar to it._

"I wouldn't. I'd feel almost like my honor had been tarnished. But" --- Anakin approved of his appearance in the mirrored closet doors --- "it's still here, they didn't, and my honor" --- he sat on the bed --- "remains as it was." Obi-Wan continued primping. "Obi-Wan, you actually _like_ Master Tachi."

Obi-Wan jolted to a halt and sat beside Anakin on Obi-Wan's side of their fourposter. "I'm, I'm starting to. Quinlan has been unavailable for years" --- _he's not gone Dark, I know he hasn't ---_ "dear Bant hasn't taken a Padawan, Garen has been away nearly continuously for the entire war and Luminara is on New Holstice. It's agreeable to have another Master to talk to, one who has raised a Padawan to Knighthood."

"And I'm not ready yet."

"My Anakin, you will be and very soon, I sense it. I wish I could be more specific for you. Are you _very_ discontent?"_ You're reaping the whirlwind about the Tusken camp. Oh, Anakin._

Anakin twiddled with his braid and ran his mechno-hand over his Merit Beads. _The Completion Bead yet to go, one more Master will put in it and then right afterwards, I'll lose the braid._ The last bead for every Padawan was beige, almost the signature color of the Jedi, placed at the tip of the plait which was secured with its usual tough threads. On that day, his heart would thump, his eyes would fill as he looked at his Master with all promises fulfilled. Finally, the braid would fall. "Yes," he said shortly, then amended it to, "but only in spurts. Then I think of the things I've done and the years I've spent training with you and forget about it for another week."

"Time slips away from us when we don't think about it, and when we do, it drags unbearably. You are still closer to Knighthood than I was at twenty-two." _I am the slow learner, not you, in the Force._

_Padme helped, but she's gone. Being closer to you helped, but that's gone. _"I don't like hearing you put yourself down, Obi-Wan. Being Chosen One hasn't brought me everything, but I'm older now and have studied the Prophecy for myself. I didn't even have to become a Jedi to be the Chosen One." _But how would the Force have brought me together with Sidious on Tatooine? __**Was**__ killing the Sith my duty as Chosen One? I want a sign, kriffit!_

"Perhaps I shouldn't have allowed you to study it, if it has confused you."

"Stop it. It _does_ apply to me, so why should you not have allowed it?"

_Because you look too deeply into some things and not deeply enough into others. I love you, but I'm not blind. _"Maybe because our relationship is so different than what was between Qui-Gon and myself that I lost my way with you as a Master."

"For kriff's sake! You've been fine as a Master! You've trained me, protected my body, mind and soul, what more _could_ you have done?" _The Ualaq were gen-enged for having fingers instead of fins and you were gen-enged for worry, I swear._

Obi-Wan couldn't allow this. He knew that being his Padawan's lover was a delight in his life, though with the revised Code, other attachments such as his and Anakin's may have come about. _Trow, everything physical really began on Trow, though we loved each other as true friends before that._ Their relationship had led to this conversation. He imagined Qui-Gon's input. Qui-Gon's piercing blue eyes would have laughed. _'Padawan, Anakin is a vergence! You and he are together because you love each other in a different way than you and I did. Trust yourself.' _He took a different tack. "Anakin, I don't pretend to know everything. I'm sayng only that you are in your prime and it's natural to want to spread your wings. I may have held you back by something that I did."

"If by holding me back, you mean devoting every waking minute to my training and practically breathing for me, then yes, you've held me back."

"You have had only me as your prime influence." _I think now you need more than me._

_Argh! _"That's the usual Master/Padawan arrangement."

"If you want to, erm, experiment with other relationships, that's, that's all right." _I can give him this. How did this evening become so serious?_

"I have friends that I spend time ... time with ... oh ... you mean ... Forget it. No." _Not happening._

"The Code has been revised. It would be all right with me. Think about it, at least."

"I'm not doing it."

"I want the best for you, and if it includes --- "

"--- no. I'm content."

"There's more to life than contentment. There's exploration, too." _I'm gong to be late to Siri's. I need to talk to her. _

"Tell me, Obi-Wan, why are you bringing this up now?"

"I'm thinking of things I never have before. Maybe it's a midlife crisis."

"You're feeling all right, aren't you? Master Bant said that you were fine with your injuries, but you wouldn't sit still for an in-depth exam --- "

Obi-Wan had been edging off the bed, angling for the door. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Aren't you and Ferus headed for the synchronized swimming demonstration at that fundraiser?"

"Yeah, some amateurs are joining Padme and her group. I'll make it, Obi-Wan, but I'm not leaving you until you know that I'm not doing what you suggested. Never." _If I can't have you, I don't want anyone._

_It's romantic, but maybe impractical._ "Let's table this discussion and have a good time tonight, Anakin. _I'm_ going to."

"I am, too. But don't" --- Anakin one-arm-hugged Obi-Wan firmly, wanting to do so much more that he ached with longing --- "even think about that other thing. And I won't be late, don't worry."

"Hmmm? Ah. Meeting with Master Yoda first thing, right." Obi-Wan made himself stop before he ran out the door. Anakin's smile was light, but his aura swirled in uncertain ripples, yellow threaded with blue and purple with pink, shot through overall with solemn gray undertones. _I've made him think. Hmmmm. Eh, Siri's waiting._

_Meanwhile, back on Serenno ..._

For two weeks, Count Dooku's war room on Serenno showed varying shades of orange skirmish situations, but not one red flare of all-out battle on any of the holographic planets. The opposing fleets patrolled, occasionally strutting with rude gestures past each other, that was all. A warm sun stroked the rose garden as Grievous stalked through the pathway of fragrant blooms that he could not enjoy and into Dooku's home. None of the staff dared look up. He no longer knocked on the massive wooden door; sensors built into it opened it quickly enough for him to stride without breaking step through the entry, down the hallway and briskly into the war room. Today, Grievous had good news for his Master. To the best of his capability, he was bursting with enthusiasm and had no doubts about his plan. _The new series of MagnaGuards will eliminate our enemies without destroying their flesh casing. In fact, it will be their flesh casing that betrays them. Along with the crystal droids, this should spell our final triumph. _

The war room looked similar to his last visit. Dooku arched over his comm station, where he was as usual intent on a catalog of Jedi articles. Grievous saw his chance.

"Who is 'Qui-Gon Jinn, Deceased Jedi Master'?" Grievous' talons had made no sound on the plush carpeting as he appeared at Dooku's elbow, ogling a sample of the merchandise that Darth Tyranus ordered so regularly. The quivering labeled figure, tiny though it was, showed in a fair amount of detail a large-framed human male with wind-whipped hair, the image captured just before his middle years. The portrait correlated to the age that the Kaleesh had been when the accident occurred that prompted the Geonosians, under Dooku's encouragement, to shape Grievous' current cybernetic form. Grievous _thought_ it correlated, anyway. A year ago on Alliga, he had fingered the wrinkles around his augmented eyes. A memory arose of existing past youth, but before sagging middle age. It was not often that he looked in a mirror --- his self-inspection had taken place in an unguarded moment when waiting outside the Solar Sailer for Dooku to finish up some tedious bodily function that Grievous no longer had to concern himself with. The ship's polished exterior showed a bone-colored mask, its flared maxillary region presenting an even larger appearance to cow enemies. Grievous couldn't remember where he had gotten his mask, though occasionally a stray warm thought and the word 'father' played across his mind. As for today, another unguarded moment revealed a weakness of Dooku's regarding this Jedi, and Grievous paid strict attention.

"Do not dare to speak his name." Dooku flared his aristocratic nostrils, came to his feet in a whirl of cape and nearly took a step towards Grievous. He restrained himself in front of this _machine_ whose so-called mind he had helped to create, realizing that Grievous could not possibly have known what Qui-Gon's true nature was. _Qui-Gon was unique. He was not turned out on an assembly line, like most every other Jedi, myself included. _When Qui-Gon's foolishness had grown with his height and the Living Force lived especially true within him, Dooku had had several strained conversations with the young Knight. At last, time and missions and natural attrition had led them further apart. Dooku's bitterness over never having had the chance to convince Qui-Gon of the rightness of joining the Separatists had burned out with the passing years, leaving a scar that no bacta could heal. Later on, he would have revealed the allure of the Dark Side, the facets of its ultimate rich glory. The anniversary of Qui-Gon's passing was the anniversary of Kenobi's Mastery over Anakin Skywalker, the one element in Sidious' plans that Dooku had never understood. Palpatine had not _desired _Skywalker, Dooku was fairly certain of that fact, though now the folds and dark spots of Sidious' map for the galaxy would never see Dooku's understanding. _My plan, forming a Sith army, could use Skywalker as its General. Kenobi is beyond my reach, more's the pity. He has a disgusting amount of Light in him._

Dooku's eyes burned as deep as a black hole, and Grievous chose silence as the wiser course. The cyborg bowed in lieu of an apology and awaited his chance to reveal his plan.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

"Let's get a drink, Ferus."

"All right. I could go for some bubblezap." Ferus fished out two credits, but Anakin waved him back.

"I mean something hard."

"Like hard cider?"

"Hard liquor."

"Oh. All right, let's get something before we sit down."

Since the Uscru Entertainment District contained both the Galaxies Opera House that they were entering and also the crime-ridden intersection of Daring Way and Vos Gesal Street, Ferus was unsurprised to see a few illegal liquors at various kiosks scattered throughout the mezzanine. Anakin had the look of someone half-afraid of exploring but determined to do so anyway. 'Aitha Protein Drink' proclaimed one kiosk and Ferus eyed it yearningly. Anakin seemed determined to shop, however, and Ferus followed in his wake. The 'Breath of Heaven' booth had the most tasteful sign and the most expensive prices. A plain booth made of smooth planks over wooden barrels held a hand-lettered sign. "'Single-celery soda'?" asked Ferus doubtfully.

"Ferus, that's something only Obi-Wan might try."

Something in the way that Anakin said his Master's name alerted Ferus that all might not be well in the Kenobi-Skywalker home. He followed Anakin along the mezzanine lobby, not really looking for anything in particular but not averse to trying different sensations, either. _I'm a Knight. I can handle new things._ He watched as Anakin seemed torn between two selections: Vayerbok on tap and Alderaan Ruge. The former was a vegetable-based beverage which did not fit Ferus' conception of 'hard liquor,' though perhaps Anakin knew something about all this that he did not, while the latter appeared an elegant red liquor served in plasticine tumblers. _In for a credit, in for a snarg._ "I'd like to sample your Vayerbok, please," someone with his voice asked. A beringed female hand that looked mostly human drew down a tap and an opaque mug filled quarter-full with a sludge of drink the color of Ferus' everyday tunic.

Anakin spun with a little laugh. "Now I've tampered with your virginity."

Ferus waggled his generous eyebrows at that. "_You'll_ never know." He smiled as he downed a large swallow. "Here, try." He kept his hand securely thrust through the handle and curved around the mug's rondeur, because he was afraid he might drop it as a blast of inebriation detonated below his diaphragm. _Should have eaten before we came. _Anakin steadied Ferus' hand and guided the mug to his lips, finishing the sample. "Good, huh?" Ferus said brightly as Anakin's fingertips seemed to brand his.

Anakin licked his lips. "'Vegetable-based'?" he quoted the glowing sign_. I picked my first drink because it sounded innocuous_. "I can't imagine the vegetable that would produce this."

"Protato. Y've huhd o' protatos?" The barkeeper's voice was deathstick-husky, and as she leaned around her tall rack of drying mugs, Anakin saw her tattooed ears, 'Kessel' defined neatly on the left one and 'Survivor' on the right. She had a proud look, and Anakin could only guess at the fortitude she'd displayed in the mines and the cleverness with which she'd escaped them. If he had had on headgear, he would have tipped it to her. As it was, he bowed.

"Enlighten us, please. We're new to this."

"Eh, naht much t'tell. Protatos git fermented, enzymed, thee-yun halfway distilled t'this mush. 'N that's that." She got busy with another customer.

"Anakin, I'll pass on this, but if _you_ want some --- "

"I'll pass, too." Anakin took the mug from Ferus' numb hand and placed it on the counter, bowing to the bartender even though she did not see the courtesy. "Let's try the Ruge."

Across the walkway, at least one hundred meters by Ferus' reckoning though it only took eight steps, stood the Ruge booth. Ferus decided not to swallow what Anakin was offering. He would swish it around in his mouth to taste it and then stage a coughing fit, dispersing the fluid in his handkerchief. He had to stop himself from grinning like an idiot at his idea.

Anakin gauged if he would need to care for Ferus later, then reminded himself that they both were Jedi and could handle the effects of liquor, if they were moderate drinkers. _I didn't feel anything with that brew. And I want to feel something._ Anakin watched as the clear red stream filled a plasticine tumbler engraved with Alderaan's royal family's crest. He thanked the Rodian bartender. The liquor was smoky with a lingering aftertaste. Anakin took another sip. _Nice. Smooth. Obi-Wan would like this._ But Obi-Wan had not touched any intoxicant for over two years. "One for me, and Ferus, what did you decide?"

_Wanna sippy._ "Half a splash to try, but it looks beautiful, and, and, red, and beautiful. Anakin, this was a _great_ idea!" Ferus brushed back his forelock, changed his plan and stuck his tongue into the redness, running his tongue around his teeth and smacking his lips noisily. He inhaled several deep breaths, the Force tickled him and he laughed. "I'll take a serving of it. This stuff."

"He'll take half a glass. Here." A tiny portion of Anakin's monthly stipend had gone for this, their tickets were free and he was going to see Padme swim._ And Jar-Jar. Vagger, too, I suppose. Oh, well. It's for sweet charity. _Their seats were directly in front of the shield-emitters that held in the two-meter depth of water for the performance. The emitters made no sound, no color, and Ferus and Anakin both had the impression that they would be washed away with the slightest wave. They giggled as they settled. The seats had been upgraded since the last time Anakin had been here. _As Sidious' guest. Ugh._ He took a good swallow of his drink.

"Master Yoda's in this?" Ferus could scarcely believe it. Even though the Code's revision had percolated to all branches of Jedi, even the Jedi Service Corps, the notion of his aged first teacher swimming in a public demonstration knocked all effects of the brew out of him. _He used to swim with us clanmates and I know he's some brand of amphibian or something, but Master Yoda? '_Dignity, always dignity,' had been Ferus' youngling motto, though he had outgrown it. The words remained deep inside him, however, to strengthen his ideals. Ferus knocked back half his drink. "I haven't seen him swim for decades, since I lived at Initiates' Hall."

Anakin took the program from Ferus' limp hand. "'As younglings are bent, so grows their spirit. In the spirit of Jedi and the Republic's philosophy of 'Learn, Then Teach,' Romeo Treblanc presents for your enjoyment a display of aquatic talent to rival the Aqualish. In fact, an Aqualish is among the competition! Senator Gorothin Vagger of the Andoan Free Colonies lends us his expertise, as does Senator Binks of Naboo, a renowned Gungan swimmer. Our own esteemed Vice-Chancellor Amidala, Padme Naberrie, completes the celebrities here tonight, though we assure you all members of their respective teams are top-notch in the natation field. Tickets may be validated for free speeder parking and please remember to imbibe responsibly. Most of all, GIVE GIVE GIVE to our Jedi Children's Museum Fund. We are nine-tenths of the way there!" Anakin poked Ferus in the arm. "I missed out at being a clanmate. Tell me about it." There were waves of distress coming off Ferus that Anakin didn't need the Force to interpret. As with most things Ferus, they were moderate.

"He showed us how to swim. He'd dive with us from the big waterfall, you know the one, in the Room of One Thousand Fountains, when we were ready. It was kind of a coming-of-age rite. You didn't have to do it, though."

"He helped me to swim, too, and that maillot he always wore made me laugh."

"You didn't call him The Troll, did you?"

Anakin was appalled. "Never! I never would! He's like the entire history of the Order all wrapped in one! Who called him that?"

"We all did." Ferus found Anakin's outrage interesting. "Maybe it's because he knew us as babies, or something. We used to be smaller than he was, then when we outgrew him, he seemed more alien to us."

"Master Yoda's size ... "

" ... matters not." They smiled at each other. "It's starting."

"Hey, look! There's Master Fisto and Master Secura sharing a bag of touchstones."_ And she's licking some bits off his fingers. Hmmm._

"We can say hello later, Anakin. I think this will be a wonderful spectacle." And so it was. Each swimmer was adorned with similar headdresses and swimsuits, and if their species sported hair, it was slicked back with some sort of gel that defied the water. There was a grand entry, each participant introduced as they swam to the end of the oblong enclosure on their back and made the return trip on the stomach, all the while weaving a pattern around the rim of the shielded waters. Yoda was nowhere to be seen, his appearance some sort of gimmick, Ferus supposed. Or would he make a token bow, perhaps a shallow dive, then retreat to comment upon or judge the competition? Ferus hoped so.

_Padme's glitter makeup accentuates her eyes. Jar-Jar's doesn't look half as good. _Senator Binks halted in tandem with his team, hoisted Padme out of the water, spun with her in his arms. He may have been clumsy, but here he was well-rehearsed and it didn't show. Padme beamed such a smile that Anakin thought it could power her Torpedo vehicle for a week. As the evening wore on and teams formed and reformed, the amateurs made only random errors or perhaps were a bit slow with their lifts. Their team of twelve portrayed all the technical poses with seeming ease as they demonstrated sculling, headstands, leg extensions and the like. Then they split in groups of four to join Padme, Jar-Jar and Gorothin, who directed the teams thus formed in intricate maneuvers for the free variation segment. Anakin still couldn't see where Master Yoda would come in. Was the program a lie to induce the curious to come and contribute out of duty? He wouldn't put it past Treblanc.

Ferus was the first to spot Yoda. "He's coming up under Amidala, see? He must have been there in the middle all along. I didn't know he could hold his breath that long." _No knows his capabilities, really._ They observed Yoda place Padme's feet on each of his shoulders, using the Force to rise slowly from the waters until he appeared to be standing on top of them. If Ferus had worried about the aged Jedi playing in an undignified manner, he needn't have. Yoda neither smiled nor simpered to the crowd. Like the stalwart being he was, he supported Padme and as soon as the audience perceived his presence, there was a moment of still recognition of his power. Padme, too, sobered as she held out her hands beseechingly.

"Please give generously. For the younglings." That ended the program, and as Ferus drained the very last of his delicious drink, he reflected that Yoda's appearance had much to do with the contribution meter which now showed eleven-twelfths to goal. It had been worth it, though the image of Master Yoda's soaked skin-tight maillot of finest Pasmin wool would stay with him for some time. _The suit needed internal support for his physique. _He turned to Anakin to point out the amusing flaw, but Anakin waved to a roving server-droid and ordered another Ruge.

_Later that night ..._

Yoda leaned more heavily on his stick than he had in months._ Steps, many more steps, take a breather ... no. Keep on. _Down labyrinthine corridors, around curves, past mysterious rooms whose purpose he barely recalled, the Jedi made his way to the utmost depths of the Temple. An ancient inscribed door accepted his palmprint and creaked open. "Activate clerk."

"Please state the nature of your request." The voice seemed to come from everywhere. A counter similar to the Quartermaster's station rose half a meter above Yoda's fuzzy head.

"Artifact Number Six." With a creak and a squeal, pincers rolled along an overhead track to a place in the room far from Yoda's sight. Four minutes passed. Yoda used the time to bend forward and back, side to side, and rose on his three toes to stretch muscles scorched from use. The pincers returned carrying a cylinder of heavy limp material, tagged holographically with its number. The pincers lay the cylinder on the long counter. It lopped off the end of the worn metal expanse, its nearly four-meter length betraying its weight by settling to the floor amid a dusty thump.

"Will you need flunkies for your transport of the object? Sensors indicate your height and object's weight incompatible for ease of motion."

_Protocols, far out of date they are. _"Flunkies, need I none. Anti-gravs, we use now."

"Master Yoda?" The voice centered now on a speaker directly over Yoda's head. He heard a _snap!_ as he automatically tilted his head up to address the speaker, then chastised himself for neglecting to respect his nine hundred year-old body. He returned to staring at the edge of the counter.

"I am."

"How goes the War? Did we intercept Stark?" If there was enthusiasm in the voice, it had been gleaned from its programmer, Madame Nu, the Archives Master and the maintainer of this storeroom. _Younger and enthused she was many years ago. Maintained this room well, she has not._

"Stark, joined the Republic forces, he did. The War is over." Some day soon, if his plan succeeded, he could say that about the current war. _Picayune, the Stark Hyperspace War seems now. How much more is at stake today. _

"Master Tholme did not mention that."

"Our Spymaster, what did he in this room?" _No such assignment did __**I**__ give him._

"Data restricted." The voice managed to sound apologetic. Yoda knew no glare would help his cause. He drew himself up to his full height, ignoring the popping sounds from his overworked back.

"_**Yoda**_, I am."

"Data restricted." With a grunted farewell to the voice, Yoda drew one hand alongside the cylinder's one-meter-high rim that dangled from the counter. The cylinder straightened and floated behind him as he trundled out of the room and back the way he came. _Frivolous use of the Force this is not. Tired of swimming and of mysteries, I am._

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

_She's most attractive in black. _Obi-Wan munched on the sliced zog that had dropped out of his slider. Siri had bright blond hair and brighter blue eyes. The declaiming actress in the holovid's conclusion playing now had amber hair swept up in a bun, but Siri's jaw and wide mouth. There was a drop of hot sauce sliding past the capture of Siri's plush lips and he reached it with his napkin before it could soil her loosely-tied evening wear. She nodded a 'thanks' before finishing her mouthful.

"Gooey, but good."

"Ummhmm."

The credits came on as in the latest fashion, names scrolling too fast to read, straining-for-humor outtakes punctuating the reprise of musical themes. The music had been sprightly, the acting of good quality and he liked this vid very much. The first they had watched had been a sports holovid, the story of a precocious scramball player with a foul mouth anchoring a woebegone team cursed with an alcoholic Coach. The child actor bore an uncanny resemblance to Anakin's niece, just turning two. Obi-Wan could picture an older Sabra Lars in the role, though Owen and Beru would never allow her to speak in that coarse manner. _Younglings. It's hard-wired into parents to protect them._

"Did Ferus ever give you any major problems, Siri?" Obi-Wan wondered aloud. Somehow he couldn't see it. Anakin and Ferus may have abraded each other at times, but Obi-Wan was honest enough to admit it was mostly Anakin's fault.

"He did not. Once he came to me and asked me to ground him so that he could have the experience. It would have been duplicitous and I refused."

"None?" _Thought so._

"I was gone for part of his training, but Adi never reported anything to me." _Was __**she**__ different with him than with me?_

"Well, she wouldn't, now would she. We protect them, sometimes against their good." _Adi loves the old Code, that is, if she loves anything._ "Qui-Gon protected Xanatos more than he did his other Padawans, to Xanatos' detriment. Xanatos never appreciated it. Right to the end, he clawed at Qui-Gon."

"I can't see Adi being anything other than straight with me. She's always been that way." Siri leaned away from Obi-Wan. The sofa's one large cushion sagged in the middle because that was where she sat alone most in-Temple nights, and the resulting indentation made her roll towards anyone seated beside her. "Obi-Wan, is Anakin needing any more work to keep him busy? If he's got too much time on his hands --- "

"Thanks, Siri, I'll look into it. Master Yoda will be meeting us tomorrow, perhaps with a new assignment. The Council meetings have been non-productive since I've been back."

"Let's drink to a quiet end to the war." Siri gathered herself and rose from the comfort of the veda-cloth upholstery. Her flowing skirt clung to her backside with static electricity and she turned sideways to pluck at it, gesturing to the sideboard to misdirect Obi-Wan's attention. "See anything you like?"

"Hmmm? Oh, you mean liquor. Give me a minute. It's been quite awhile." He joined her at the polished lammaswood sideboard, noting that there was no dust here, in contrast to some other places in her quarters. _Siri enjoys her libations. So did I, years ago. I think I'll join her tonight. _"Cassandran Choholl! However did you afford it?"

Siri looked almost shy. "Someone I met undercover, I met again years later. He'd cleaned up his act and bought me this for old times' sake. He was ... nicer than most I'd met back then." She raised a hand to her lips. "It isn't a thing to share with just anyone, but I'll share it with you." Her brow clouded. "It wasn't a bribe or anything."

"'Fruity,'" Obi-Wan read the foil label. "I don't normally go in for fruits, as flavoring, I mean, but I've heard almost legendary tales about this. I'd be honored to join you." _She keeps going back to those non-Jedi years of hers. There's a story to tell, if she ever decides to tell it._ Siri selected two crystal pieces of bowled stemware, etched with a floral pattern. She poured two fingers in each, decorated them with swizzle sticks and dricklefruit crescents and capped the fluted bottle. They settled onto the sofa once more to sip in silence.

"Ahhhh."

_"Mmmmmm_."

"Oooh, yes."

"Wizard!"

"Even Anakin doesn't say that anymore."

"I think I'm approaching my second childhood. Maybe it's riding the speeder bikes that does it." Siri rolled carelessly against Obi-Wan's hip. "Good to relax."

"For me, too. Tonight may be the last night we see each other for awhile, so let's make the most of it."

"Yes, once we get in the field again, I'll miss my bed. It's from PhlogTrain, nice and wide."

"So's ours."

Siri sat straighter and played with her fringed sash. "You've lived mighty clean, Obi-Wan."

"I, I don't understand you."

Siri swirled her drink. The swizzle stick tinkled and the dricklefruit garnish almost spilled out. "I mean, when I came back from Krayn's outfit, I'd lived non-Jedi for three years. I know what is out there. I had to choose and it was rough. It took a lot out of me and I nearly didn't return to walk the Jedi path." She knocked back the entire drink, almost choking on the garnish. She threw the swizzle stick expertly into the sink where it shattered. "You, my man, tried so kriffing hard to come back when Master Jinn didn't want you again right away. You kept coming back to his coldness and distance for _months --- "_

"Oh, it wasn't _months --- "_

"I was there. It was." Siri leaned away from him and stared straight ahead. "Now I like the path that I walk, but at the time, it was a difficult choice and I'd never considered that it might be. The undercover assignment was just a way to gain Knighthood at first. Master Adi told me it might be difficult to adjust again, but I think that she didn't really believe it. I made Knight, she cut my braid and we embraced. I put on a good show, don't you think?"

"Siri, you say that you are reconciled to your decision. What else is there to say? Why are you telling me this?" _You have mellowed. What a surprise. Was it the revised code that did this?_

"To reconcile with _you_. I was envious of your cheerful attitude and didn't release it, I was in awe of your humility and perseverance in the face of such obtu--- "

"_Don't_ say it. It's behind us. Master Qui-Gon and I weathered our difficulties and I've always said that he joined the Force as a different man. He suffered over Master Tahl's blinding and when she had her final troubles, it broke him down. I didn't know if he could recover, Siri." The liquor's effect after such a long time of abstinence took him by surprise and he sprawled open-legged, one thigh resting against hers. "B-But he did. He built himself back up to being Jedi, with the help of the Force. I was privileged to be his last Padawan."

"He was privileged to have _you."_ _It's not soft, not weak to say this. It needs saying after all these years._ "Stars, look at the time. Dawn will come sooner than we think. I'd like it if you would meditate with me tomorrow morning. In the gardens would be nice, near the zaela trees. Would you?"

"Of course I would, Siri." He gave her knee a fraternal pat and linked her arm with his to stand. "Whoooa, roomtilt. Gooooood Choholl, ha. Been _years._ Thanks for the vids. Nice changes from my horror ones. This last one nearly made me cry."

"Nu said it was 'sad, poignant, funny and life-affirming.' She was right. I liked the daughter who got taken down a peg. Reminded me of me." She poked him in the arm and they sashayed to her door. _What was that line I used to say as Zora to sleep my way up the ladder in Krayn's outfit? Oh, yeahhh. 'Have breakfast with me tomorrow?' 'You know it, baybeeee.' 'Shall I comm you, or nudge you?' Pathetic. Why did it work so well? _They both cracked their jaws in huge yawns.

"Late nights are behind us, too, Siri. It must be, what, tenth hour?" _It's good to have an evening away. Anakin should find more friends to share evenings with. Do him good._

"We're hedonist Jedi, new post-Revision code Jedi. Dancing under the stars until dawn, drinking to excess, not washing our robes every other day ... who knowsh what will come next?" Siri palmed open the door. Obi-Wan leaned out, then back in again.

"Nobody'sh out there. Nobody to see me leave here and get shuspicions shtarted in their little brains."

"Master Yoda has a little brain."

"He'sh little all over."

"Oh, _I_ don't know. I've heard rumors --- "

"_Siri!_"

"Well, I have. The Healers conducting our yearly exams have been known to indulge in alcohol, and not the medicinal kind. They've let things shlip before. I'm just saying, Master Yoda is old, but not _old_ old."

"I'm sure I, I don't know what you mean." Obi-Wan again leaned out the open door and then back in, scouting for fellow late night revelers._ We're gossiping. I'm not telling Anakin about this._

Siri made a rude noise with her lips. It reminded Obi-Wan of the accipiptero from Dagobah that she had imitated before their vid. "I _mean_, Oafy-Wan, that he ish not beyond having warm feelings for someone."

"I'm leaving before this gets shcandalous. Gotta use the Force to dishipate shome --- _some_ of this Choholl." Obi-Wan swayed towards Siri with a leer. "Join me in dishipation, m'dear?"

"Suuure. Don't want hangovers tomorrow, do we? Meet you at dawn, where I shaid."

"Very good. Let's do it now." Obi-Wan and Siri rolled their foreheads together and placed their hands on each other's shoulders. "Breathe. Concentrate. Breathe. Concentrate. The alcohol is bubbling away, the effects are going away, and it all happens ... _now._" And just like that, the edge of the inebriation was gone, they felt good and relaxed, and more than somewhat sleepy.

_That same evening, on Naboo ..._

Palo awoke with a snort as Dorme's head lolled against his shoulder. She had drooled and the fluid's growing coolness had awakened him. The HoloNews played in a loop, one he had seen earlier in the day. "In lighter news, the war has not diminished the efforts of many to acquire merchandise geared to their hobbies. With the growing scarcity of Jedi Knights in the Republic that is due to their unending gallantry in insisting upon leading their troops into battle, the market in Jedi memorabilia has skyrocketed in value. While lost cloaks are a drag on the market, personalized items such as lightsabers are turning up in black market venues such as _Black Sun Souvenirs_. Reputable auction houses such as _JediNow_ decry this trend." A Praci's blob nearly filled the transmission. "'More and more, we are being undersold in the unique merchandise market. We have had to resort to niche marketing to elite clientele, to the detriment of the general collecting public. Getting on one of these exclusive lists is an extremely rare occurrence. Anyone who _does'" --- _the spokesbeing turned three of its eyestalks directly into the holoemitter's lens --- "'can be assured of quality --- '"

Palo whispered, "Off." Dorme sighed as Palo tucked a light cover around her and pushed her face away from the scratchy throw pillow. There would be no waking her until daylight. He kissed her uncovered ear and headed for the 'fresher. As he surveyed himself in the mirror and patted his double chin, a brainstorm flashed for an even better idea to tell Padme and Master Yoda. "They are perfect for it, those two. I can see it all now." _Too late to comm Coruscant tonight. _Nibbling on the last of their almond-kwevvu munchables as he settled into bed, he programmed himself to dream about his idea as he had several times before with other ideas. _It worked with the singing Varykino furry trout. It'll work this time. _As he fell asleep, he wished that his parents had been as attentive to their offerings to the Goddess of Safety as he had always been. He mumbled his usual prayer to her right before he slept.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Anakin leaned against the doorjamb, wondering where his maturity had gone, that he should have these thoughts. The Ruge led him into an imagined conversation with Obi-Wan, one about the same subject as earlier in the evening. _You could have sex with a Jedi. I couldn't. I would need to go to whores or back to Padme or Sabe or try to meet someone new ... Darra or Serra, not one of my friends could I ask ... I couldn't approach Ferus, with his eyes and his shoulders and his niceness and his __**height**_ --- Anakin would stare into Obi-Wan's hurt blue eyes and knew right then that he would not do any of those things. _Thinking is okay, doing would not be, not even once. I get it now. But what about Obi-Wan? _

"So where's Master Kenobi?" Ferus daubed at the red stain on his tunic in the Kenobi-Skywalker 'fresher.

"He's with Master Tachi tonight. Late, he said. They like holovids."

"Don't you?" He was spreading the stain. The Quartermaster would know what to do, so Ferus put it out of his mind. "It won't come out. I'll look after it later."

"I'm sorry, Ferus. I was clumsier than Jar-Jar, I mean Senator Binks." The last of the Alderaan Ruge adorned Ferus' tunic, looking like a broken heart on the tawny material. The drink had gone flying as Anakin had gestured widely to point out Master Fisto's head tentacles twining around Master Secura's lekku as the two Jedi Masters exited the Opera House. But the evening had accomplished something: Anakin had tasted his first alcohol, and he liked the experience.

Ferus sat on the fourposter. "Is this your side?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"The dent is bigger. And I know you like sleeping near any window. Remember our trip to Euceron for the scramball finals?"

Anakin laughed a long time. "You kept kicking me, like all night long, Ferus. What was your problem?"

"I was getting sick and didn't want anyone to know. I guess I had a temperature and was restless." Ferus pulled the wet spot away from his chest. "Ugh."

Anakin touched Ferus' sleeve. "That was ... really dumb, not to tell."

"Well! See if I confide in _you_ again!" But the young Knight smiled. "The trip was fun and not many volunteered to room with me. But _you_ did."

"It was just to get something on you, I cannot lie. But there was nothing to get. You were, and are, one of the nicest beings I know." _All these years later, we can tell each other this. Obi-Wan, if my midichlorians weren't too strong and if there __**were**__ anyone else, besides you ..._

Ferus held himself very still. "I'm not thinking nice thoughts right now." _I'm a Knight. I can handle new things._ "I want ... I w-want ... "

_No. Oh, no._

"I want what you and Master Kenobi have."

_Oh. _Anakin ducked his head. "Well, erm, it _is _nice, Ferus. Who told you it wasn't?"

_The old Code. _"My upbringing, is what. I can't shed it quickly, but I'm starting to think having a partner would be a good thing, someone to come home with when I'm in-Temple, someone who understands me ... "

"It stays nice, even when they _don't_ understand you. I'm in your corner, whatever you do about it. Do you, um, have anyone in mind?"

_Someone like you. But you're taken._ "No." Ferus finally undid his tunic, stripping away layers of rectitude. "But I'm looking."

_So am I, so stop right there. _"Take off the undertunic, too, and borrow some stuff of mine." Anakin faced resolutely away from his teammate and opened the mirrored closet doors. "Here." He handed a wad of clothing to Ferus and busied himself with turning down the bed. "Obi-Wan'll be coming back soon."

From the corner of his eye Anakin caught Ferus' movements, those of a natural athlete, as much as Anakin's were. Anakin had not had much opportunity lately to play sports. He thought of asking Ferus to help him recruit a new scramball team amongst the Initiates, then thought better of it. _We'll most likely get a new assignment tomorrow. Shouldn't start something with younglings, get their hopes up that we'll be there for them, and then dodge. _There was a stop to the sound of clothes rustling. "Thanks for the loan. I'll get them back to you soon."

Anakin saw Ferus to the door, palming it safely shut behind him. He wandered through their quarters before spotting a hairclip that Siri must have dropped the last time she was over. _Master Tachi likes Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan likes Master Tachi. Is Nature taking its course this very minute?_ Anakin had seen couples coupling standing up against rough treetrunks while three red moons shone through wind-whipped leaves, he had seen a man enter a woman in a swimming pool with people sunning themselves deckside not two meters away, had seen the woman's head snap back and her eyes close and lips part like Padme's used to do, and neither of these things had perturbed him morally as much as the thought, no, the _vision_, of Master Tachi and Obi-Wan on a sofa, watching _Missives From The Unknown Region_ and snuggling. He would lean into her. She would respond. She would be the aggressor, in fact, if he knew Master Tachi. She would clap a claw on his knee and then move higher. He would put his hand over hers and guide her. He would roll down the thin strap of her undergarment until one, only one, breast tumbled out, he would thumb the nipple before they lay back against the sofa cushions. She would forthrightly divest them both of just enough clothing to do what she wanted. He would be slow and gentle and arousing, until the time came for quick action. Then he would push one leg to the side until it dangled to the floor, she would grab her other knee to her chest to make room for him, he would yank her hindquarters up in the air and spread apart her lips for his entry. Her head would snap back like the woman's had in the pool, she would encourage or even give brisk directives and when he labored at the very end, he would groan softly at climax while she clutched his back and hollered like a puuri cat in heat. _Master Tachi always pumps in her own fuel into her Delta-7 starfighter. She didn't dance at the Jedi Cotillions, when we had them before the war. She comms Master Gallia every week, faithful as the geyser near the Gafsa wells in the Jundland. _Master Tachi gave the impression of someone who went after what she wanted. Without thinking about it, he wandered into the kitchen and put the teakettle on.

Anakin moaned and hopped restlessly up on the island. _It's a vision, it's torture worse than Dooku could devise because he doesn't know me that well, doesn't know how much I love Ma--- Obi-Wan._ Sith didn't understand love, the unending consideration of the other being's feelings, the dancing tension omnipresent with day-to-day living with another, tension with which Anakin and Obi-Wan dealt with Jedi understanding for two, coming up on three years. He discounted all the years before their love had been consummated; that time seemed at an oblique angle to their present walk together on the Jedi path. That age had been filled with sparring, classes, missions, personal growth as well as physical growth for Anakin. He remembered the day he knew he'd outstripped his Master in height. That had felt strange, but good. This felt strange, but bad. He fingered the clip, a utilitarian durasteel engraved with a starburst design in a distinct feminine flair. Obi-Wan had complimented Master Tachi's taste when he first spotted the glittering band holding back blonde strands from a well-shaped ear. _Master was flirting, eeeuuuww. Well, be honest, Anakin. He's human. He can't have sex with you anymore, and he's a v-- , a vir-- , well, not with you, but ... a 'virgin,' there. And he's curious. And Master Tachi's a longtime fr--- ... acquain--- ... fellow Jedi. _Anakin's old stuttering habit seemed to have become internalized. _I won't stand in his way. I was __**married**__. I can give him this. _Anakin wondered if the fact that he was still a Padawan affected Obi-Wan's feelings towards him. Did he see Anakin as a burden to developing his own life further, their happiness as a sham because they could not have sex? _Aaagh, he's not going to ask me for advice, is he? Lines to say? Sand, he can't use the one about sand._ Anakin pursed his lips. _'A kiss becomes a scar,' no. _The tea kettle sang cheerily, but Anakin remained wrapped in misery. The vision would not go away: Obi-Wan's arm around Siri's neck, pulling her closer, his other arm drifting to the small of her back, tighter and tighter ... Anakin ground his teeth. _He'll need me on this one. _She probably has wrinkles under her unisuit, he thought nastily. Or gray hair ... somewhere on her. _It wouldn't look as good on her as it does on him. _Remembering his concussion-induced vision from two weeks ago showing Obi-Wan writhing on these white tiles amid spilled vegetables, he squirmed on the kitchen island, jumping down with a thud in his stocking feet on the tiles. In a steamy haze, he spooned tea into his cup and infused his favorite mixture of Kopi and muja fruit zest. It smelled divinely as usual. Anakin slumped at their plain table, thinking thoughts perilously close to brooding. More than steam turned his ruminations to a simmering confused mess.

"She probably knows all kinds of tricks to lure him," Anakin moped. "She's old and experienced, wants him, nothing to hold her back ... now that the Code has been changed ... " Along with Yoda sometimes, Anakin wondered if changing the Code had been a good thing. He'd wanted it for himself and his Master at the time. His schooltime debate from years ago hadn't stood the test of time well; attachments could weaken as well as strengthen one's power to walk the Jedi path. It was all so complex. Anakin peeled a spring celto, braiding its tough strings in an old nervous mannerism he hadn't been plagued with since his early teens. He slathered on whipped yellow Byss cheese from a dispenser, piling the crisp vegetable high with enough richness to make him sick. He ate it with one bite. _I've stopped blossoming. I've done the Padawan thing, the husband thing, the divorce thing, the Chosen One thing. What's next?_ He squirted on more cheese on another piece of the vegetable, then peeled six more and laid them on the island. He adorned each with loops of cheese and ate them, one after the other. _Someday soon I'll be a Knight. Master Yoda promised I could take the Trials when the war ended._ Penance Anakin understood. Having pallies taken away from him when he'd failed at fixing broken droids was nothing compared to being the Order's oldest Padawan. Other species might have different aging templates, but for a human, he _was_ the most Senior of the Senior Padawans. It rankled now, in the midst of a long night. Yoda's judgment was fair, but onerous to live with after two years. Anakin plodded to the common room to select a vid. Obi-Wan's pile of horror titles loomed in the darkened room, stacked neatly by the holoprojector. _Butcher King of the Downlevels, Octagonhead Part Seven: The Facets of Fear, It Came From Beneath The Speederpark ... _He chose the most lurid one and turned on the device. Eerie music punctuated by stings of agitato vioflute trills began and Anakin settled to wait.

"Shouldn't eat so much cheese, Anakin. You know what it does to you." Obi-Wan replaced the cheese in the conservator.

Anakin had nearly nodded off and hadn't heard him enter. "Huh. Thanks for reminding me. How was your" --- _date_ --- "evening?" He left the holoprojector on to provide some background noise and picked up his unfinished chore casually, spreading the necessary implements across the caf table. At a look from Obi-Wan through the kitchen door, he spread some flimsiplast underneath his project.

"Quite interesting, thanks. Did you know she plays the mouthharp?"

Anakin buffed his boots. He spat on the vamp and stretched the taut white cleaning cloth between the clenched fingers of his left hand and the more relaxed ones of his right. "No, I didn't." Obi-Wan poured himself a cup of lukewarm Kopi tea. _He __**always**__ likes it piping hot. He must really be distracted._ Obi-Wan sat at his usual place at their kitchen table, putting up his feet on Anakin's chair with a sigh. He leaned forward to meet Anakin's eyes.

"She learned how when she was undercover in Krayn's slaver employ. Lots of free time on her hands between raids."

"Was that _all_ she learned to do with her mouth?" Anakin met his gaze briefly before he snapped the bootblacking cloth up and then down sharply on the left side of the vamp of his boot. He repeated the buff, and then flicked the cloth savagely against the right side.

The holoprojector said, _"Cleo, the bleeping speeder's stalled and it's pouring rain now. Let's head for the mansion up on the hill there. It looks deserted."_ Obi-Wan generally checked out the expurgated vids from Madame Nu's archives, claiming he heard enough cursing in everyday life.

Obi-Wan yawned and stretched. "Nope. She can do reptavian imitations, too. And Krayt dragon mating calls." He stirred his tea, slurping it as he never had before. Anakin gouged out a dab of metal polish from its tin and flung a small blob on each boot's buckle. _Mating calls, hummmph. _He wrapped a section of cloth around his longest flesh finger only, rubbing and twisting the buckle, shining its surface to a mirror. Obi-Wan clinked his empty cup into its saucer. He yawned again. _And just why is he so tired?_ "Mmmmhm. Those animal sounds would be a good distracting maneuver on a mission. Siri has developed her oral talents." He extended his right leg. "Help me remove my boots, Padawan?"

A female voice on the vid trembled, _"Hello? Anyone in here? I could have sworn I saw someone at the window, Radik."_

Anakin pressed his lips together, delivering a final _snap!_ to his own glossy footgear. He crossed to the kitchen in four brisk steps. "Sure. Why not?" He straddled Obi-Wan's outstretched thigh, facing away from him, bending forward as he grasped the counter and the toe of the chestnut nerf leather boot. He pulled as Obi-Wan placed his other foot on Anakin's backside and pushed. "Uhhhnggg. Harder, Anakin! Harder!"

The words percolated through into a particularly vivid and cherished memory of their lovemaking, two years ago. Anakin snapped. "All _right!"_ He yanked, Obi-Wan pushed, the boot slid free, and he staggered forward three steps. He turned on Obi-Wan, dropping the boot exaggeratedly. "All _right!_ If you want her, just say so! I'll accept it, but nobody could expect me to _like_ it!"

"_It's enormous! Let's hide in the basement!" _whispered Radik. Muted thunder rumbled in the background of the soundtrack. Obi-Wan twitched a finger and the holoprojector was silent. The Master did not move from his comfortable position at their table. "What's this all about? I'm getting to know Siri better after many years, that's all. We've been reminiscing. We've been through some things together lately, surely I don't have to enumerate them to _you._"

"Maybe you do, Obi-Wan."

_Meanwhile, down in the Temple labs ... _

Plo Koon hummed a response to a part of a Kel-Dor litany he had studied as part of a _Get To Know Your Homeworld_ studies. With species such as his, such study was mandatory, as it was not with human or even near-human Initiates. He used the chanting as a mind-focusing technique while in his laboratory, but only when he was hard put to achieve results. For two weeks he had needed to chant.

"Yesterday barged in

Chasing Tomorrow-row-row away

Today had no chance."

"I make my own cha-a-a-ance," he replied in a monotone. He needed this "Present, Tense" part of the liturgy at times to spur him on to greater effort._ Peripheral neuropathy. _That was what the younger-than-he-looked trooper in front of him was afflicted with. It didn't show up all the time. It was nastily unpredictable. No known medicine or therapy could cure him. The demyelination progressed steadily with its resulting unsteady gait, tremors and general weakness.

ARC5231 coughed. "Sir, some water?"

"It's at the end of the counter, Trooper. Help yourself," Plo replied absently. He scrolled his datapad to the ending projections of memory loss, loss of dexterity and double vision. Not fatal. Painful, costly to the Republic in terms of supporting these beings that the Jedi had ordered into being, but not fatal. Plo wondered if the young man knew his future may include heat sensitivity and loss of control of the bodily functions of elimination. _Heat sensitivity. Adi was using the hot water part of the dispenser to make tea when she was here a while ago on her recruiting mission._ "Trooper, be careful of --- "

"It's okay, sir. I know I'm not myself anymore." ARC5231 ran a hand through his thick black hair and came out with a tuft between his fingers. "See? Started last week."

_Kriff._ "I'll get you the water. Sit down."

"Sir, it's not fit that _you_ should --- "

"That's an order, Trooper."

Plo turned off the heat for the hot water half of the dispenser and handed the soldier a cup of cool water, curling his talons around the man's hand to ensure he gripped it securely.

ARC5231 gently lifted off the Master's hand. "Not that bad off, sir. Thanks, anyway." He brought the flimsi cup to his lips slowly, as if he had had accidents doing this in the past days. "Mmmm, hits the spot."

Plo took notes and redoubled his efforts. ARC5231 stayed with him for tests uncomplainingly until dawn, when he returned to his barracks. ARC2813 replaced him immediately.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

"Obi-Wan, I won't make trouble if you're starting something with Siri, but I need to know some things. Like, like, if there's a signal you can think of so that I know when not to come into the bedroom, or maybe you wouldn't even want me to come home --- "

"Stars and galaxies. Stars' End." Obi-Wan saved the worst for last. "Kriff. Anakin, how you can misconstrue things. First, I love you. Second, Siri and I are _friends_ and third, I love you."

Anakin made himself breathe evenly. "I love you, too, but I'm not blind. It's been a bitch living together without having sex, when what we had was so _good, _so _right ... "_

_"'Was'?"_

"All right, '_is.'_ All this I'm having trouble dealing with lately and I _don't_ see where my dream-purpose comes in, though I've tried, I've tried --- "

Obi-Wan ignored the fact that he had only one boot on and came forward to place his hands on Anakin's shoulders. "Much has happened since Trow."

"Stating the obvious, Master." Anakin turned away into the common room and flumped down on the sofa. "Sorry, that was rude."

Obi-Wan sat next to him without touching. "Yes, it was. Sarcasm can bite where one doesn't intend." He sighed. It _had_ been a difficult two years. Sometimes their hot nights together seemed dreamlike; other times, a look or gesture or odor would remind him of Trow or Tatooine or Coruscant settings where they had enjoyed each other unrestrainedly. Even in hyperspace he had green memories The revision of the Code, the revelation of Palpatine's Sith identity and Anakin's divorce, such a blend of ups and downs made him glad he had stopped keeping a diary. _It would hurt to return to it, reading about how we were so happy, when we're in a funk right now._ "But I'm happy with you, Anakin. It's a different kind of happiness, you realize." Something was using his voice to say these words. Could it be the Force?_ No. It's me._ "As much as I loved you and in all the ways that you loved me physically ..." Obi-Wan had to look away, the memory of his last tryst with Anakin flooding his mind and his groin with yearning. If he had known it had been their last time would he have done things differently? _No, that's for sure_. The bedroom he shared with Anakin and shared still most nights used to resound with their cries of passion and soft declarations, particularly that time of the picnic. Their last time had been, had been, oh yes, after the annual picnic, an absolutely splendid day that had led into an absolutely splendid night, with Anakin's stump doing those remarkable things while his mechno-arm was preprogrammed to act independently and pulse electromagnetic radiation into his ... and then Anakin had upped the frequency ... oh. _Hard as my thirteenth-birthday gift rock. Stang. _He crossed his legs. "Erm, what I'm trying to say is that I'm not _un_happy. You and I, we're all right, the war, well, it will end and you will take your Trials, be more independent. And that is what I want for you, my own." He crossed his legs the other way.

"I'd love to take care of that for you." Anakin's voice was strangled.

"And I'd love for you to be able to, but let's deal in realities tonight. I like Siri, she is a good companion, she's direct and we share some interests. It's _fun_ to visit her and come home and talk about it with you. Don't you feel the same way with your friends? Ferus, for instance? You and he have spent a great deal of time together lately and I am happy for you. He's a fine young man."

"Ferus wants a relationship."

"Anakin, you can't --- "

"Not with me! With someone else, he's confided in me and now that I think about, now that I _think_ about it, this comports with the dream-purpose, Obi-Wan! You and I, we're examples of what awaits the Jedi when the war is over with and Knights and Padawans and Masters, too, can _be_ again, rather than _do._ Whether or not Ferus finds anyone or Master Fisto or Master Secura go beyond lekku-holding --- "

_"What?"_

" --- never mind, I'll tell you later --- isn't the point, the point is that you and I are attached and are doing well enough. The Force didn't develop a rift, the sea below Coruscant's surface didn't boil away." He lay back into the deep cushions. "Whew. Alderaan Ruge made me see things in a whole new light."

"_**You **_had a drink?_"_

"Yup. My first. Tasted good, Obi-Wan. Now I know what I was missing." Anakin patted his stomach. "Guess I can handle it." The Byss cheese snacks sat heavily inside him, however. _Too rich. Need my blandness cane._

Obi-Wan surveyed his Padawan. Anakin seemed fine. He had not over-indulged, there had been no brawl, no trip to the planetary security forces in the middle of the night. "I'm pleased. Moderation in all things, Anakin. Drinking will never rule you, then." He settled into the plush cushions also. "Since we've both had eventful evenings, why not meditate together now and process everything?"

"And not arise at dawn? It will seem strange." _Change. I can handle change._

Obi-Wan replaced the antimacassar that had slipped down. "Siri and I are going to meet in the gardens to meditate at dawn, but I can cancel if --- "

"No. I'm all right with that, I told you." And he was. But he needed something to wrap his hands around, to feel a smooth surface to _grip_ like he couldn't grip any part of Obi-Wan.

"Let's begin, then."

"In a minute." Anakin walked briskly to the bedroom closet and rustled through its contents. "Where ... oh, here." He settled once more by Obi-Wan.

"Master Yoda's _naynabo_ cane. Yes. Excellent idea. Sensory reinforcement for control. Let's begin." Obi-Wan placed his hands on Anakin's as Anakin grasped the cane like a dowsing rod. For a split second, Obi-Wan flashed upon a Tatooine morning with them both trying intensely to enjoy each other without waking a pregnant Beru. Hands over each other's cocks, kneeling on what would become little Sabra's bed, following the stenciled baby banthas as the creatures crept down the stuccoed wall to the bedstead in happy abandon ... _happy abandon ... _Obi-Wan faltered. _I cannot forget. _He removed his hands from Anakin's, said, "Forgive me, it's really yours, Padawan," and tutted when Anakin started to protest. Obi-Wan led them both firmly into the Force's embrace to find forgetfulness there. It was a measure of their distraction that Obi-Wan did not remove his other boot and that Anakin did not tease him about it. After they emerged from the timelessness of meditation, they donned the pajamas they had taken to wearing while in-Temple. Using their onesy underwear as sleepwear had proven beyond both their limits, as dropseats revealed flashes of musculature with curves and lines like firm unripe shuura fruit, changing shape with various postures and driving any observer mad.

"Good night, Obi-Wan." Anakin pursed his lips for a quick kiss and Obi-Wan obliged.

"Good night, Anakin." Obi-Wan fastened the topmost button of his pajamas. They lay back to back, relaxing eventually.

_The next morning ..._

Tholme made himself as comfortable as he could on the hassock opposite Yoda's seat. There was no back support, but there was Tholme's cane and Tholme leaned heavily on it, Yoda saw. _Paid a high price for his bravery, he has. _Yoda deemed a small amount of discomfort judiciously apt, given the importance of this interview. He suspected that Tholme did not care one way or the other about the revised Code; the Spymaster had broken the old Code often enough, though never with lovely fellow Master T'ra Saa, whose nature stabilized him. Tholme simply didn't consider her an attachment. After more than thirty years of steady companionship whenever possible, she was as necessary to him as breathing, an integral part of him. Their natures were blended, not attached, and Yoda knew that he would never have this with Padme. _Wondered how Force-sensitive and Force-blind relationship would be, I did. Found out, I have._ He redirected his musings to what he had ostensibly called Tholme in to discuss, the state of affairs between the Neti Master Saa and Tholme.

"Yet sacrifice yourself for her, you would."

"Yes, without hesitation. As she would for me. We are Jedi."

Yoda asked the hard question. "Think you that she will forget you when centuries pass, she lives and you are one with the Force?"

Tholme rarely smiled, but today he broke his habit. "My seed is in her, Master. It will never come to fruition with her, but it is in her. At my instigation, she took a Romin shape." Tholme broke out of Spymaster mode and ducked his head. "I admired the look, I cannot tell you why, but that was on a mission thirty Standard years ago and she has pleased me with it ever since."_ Her golden skin, wide mouth ... her Romin hands ... oh ..._

Yoda said, "Hmmmmph," but understood. "Attached, you say you both are not."

"Yes, Master." Tholme's good eye held nothing but sincerity. The opacity of his blind eye covered a half a lifetime of evasions and half-truths, all in service to the Order. "I'm aware that under the new Code we _could_ form an attachment, but neither she nor I want to rock the boat."

"Why visited you our deepest storeroom?" _From personal conversation directly to attack, Form 345, the Ibasaw Maneuver._

"I didn't --- "

"_Know_ you were there, I do." _Not even with you will I discuss our plan. End this war, we must._

"Master, I did not."

Yoda gleaned all the intent he could from Tholme, glossing over incidents that would only clutter up his psyche. There was pure truth in his sieve when he finished. "Apologize, I do." Tholme inclined his head and they both tapped their canes thoughtfully in the ensuing silence.

"An impostor," they said as one.

"I'll get right on it, Master." Yoda explained his trip to the storeroom as part of Madame Nu's performance review, his tone suggesting that she had some issues to explain to him. Ordinarily, this information would have resulted in a sardonic raised eyebrow on Tholme's scarred face, but the man frowned instead. "Jocasta wouldn't be our spy. She's not capable of duplicity. Obtuseness, yes, inordinate pride in her Archives, yes, conniving, no."

_Misdirect him, I must not. "Anyone_ is suspect in this. Your best, I expect." Tholme's durasteel knee creaked as he made a deep bow of farewell.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Yoda's quarters smelled as they always did when he was not cooking a meal that only he and Master Yaddle could call tasty. The rooms reeked of an unknown incense and of a friable kind of soil, damp and fertile. Obi-Wan and Anakin seated themselves comfortably on the sandstone floor in meditative positions. Yoda sat on a rolled shape of material that gave slightly with his weight. To Obi-Wan, it looked like one of those new-fangled pneumatic sofas, though why Yoda would want a piece of furniture running nearly the entire length of his common room baffled him. _Who could Master Yoda invite comfortably here to a party of his? Master Yaddle, of course, and Master Piell and Master Rancisis if he wanted to slither in here and naturally some Initiates on the small side, like Liam ..._

"What know you of the Great Hunt?"

Obi-Wan had to think. Jedi History class had been so long ago: weekly 'lightsaber drills' with little hands clasped palm-to-palm or palp-to-palp or claw-to-claw over their heads, eyes closed, waiting for the prompt. It came, spoken in Master Yoda's garbled way, followed by a pregnant pause, then ... "Begin!" Down came the hands or feelers or paws to scroll through datapads, which they sometimes dropped in nervous tension. Then the Initiate who answered the question correctly would receive a treat of their choosing. Obi-Wan had won only once, and not for this question.

"It was for terentateks, Master," Anakin answered confidently. "It took place with limited success over some years about four millenia ago."

_Terentateks are, um ... _Obi-Wan remained in the dark, though he _was_ pleased that the after-dinner tutoring in Jedi history until Anakin had grown too big to sit on his knee had made an impression. He applied an earnest listening cant to his features and wracked his memory.

"Forged by the Sith or naturally occurring on Korriban, these creatures are Jedi killers, mmmm, yes. A noble effort, the Great Hunt was and many Jedi perished in the attempt to eradicate the monsters. Tragic tales of the times, tragic tales --- "

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and spouted, "Terentateks are beasts similar to rancors, most likely native to Korriban, although they are also found on Onderon, Tython, Yavin-4, Tatooine and lately have been spotted on Kashyyyk. They make it their business to hunt Jedi, so _we_ decided to hunt _them."_ He smiled a ferocious smile that Anakin had never seen on him. "They are warped physically and mentally by the Dark Side on whatever planet they are on when the Dark Side grows in power, such as it did up to the point when Sidious died" --- Anakin firmed his lips --- "and to a lesser extent even now, with Count Dooku's continued presence besmirching the galaxy. One tragic part of the Great Hunt so long ago occurred on Korriban when one sortie consisting of Nuur, Qel-Droma and Saresh, puissant Knights all, failed despite their magnified powers of connection to each other and to the Force. They had a falling out over a r-romantic attachment between Qel-Droma and Nuur and when Knight Saresh abandoned their group in protest, each one succumbed separately to a terentatek. But even more tragically, Nuur Fell to the Dark Side through grief after her lover's skills failed him and a terentatek won their encounter. She, Qel-Droma and Saresh were devoured by the beasts and it was only many years later when Revan found their effects and some bones and pieced together their story that the Jedi learned what happened and if you've heard of a new sighting of the kriffing things then I would like to volunteer for any --- " _**Where**__ did that knowledge spring from and did I really say 'kriffing' to Master Yoda?_

The silence rivaled the pause after Master Yoda's long-ago prompt. Anakin and Yoda stared until Obi-Wan raised his head in self-respect and added, "I've monopolized. Please go on."

"Hmmmmmph. _As_ beasts go, terentateks' tough skin and back spines protect them from predation, yet win many times, we did, and brought back their foul remains to study." Yoda rose to his feet, planted them and his cane firmly. "But mention, neither of you did, the main feature of terentateks and the reason _why_ we hunted them." Obi-Wan and Anakin looked at each other like younglings caught out from lack of study. Yoda sighed. "Immune to the effects of the Force, they are." He gestured to his former seat. "Help me unroll this, Master and Padawan." He stood with one hand on an end of what now looked like not a blow-up sofa but a carpet, aged enough to be considered an ancient Jedi artifact. To Anakin, the whole thing looked like something he recalled dimly from Gardulla's opulent quarters. _Terentatek leather in it, I'm assuming. Our aesthetic sense has changed in the past four millenia. _He exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan. _And for the better._

_I did not notice that ridge running its length. Was he clouding our minds?_ Obi-Wan handled the middle and as Anakin maneuvered the far end, Yoda began to unfurl a large carpet, unusual in design with strips of thick nubbled leather alternating with worn lengths of a tough napped fabric. As the length unrolled to cover a large amount of the common room, Obi-Wan sensed nothing from the expanse of the artifact, but then he would not have if it had been innocuous septsilk. He had his mouth open to query Yoda about the meaning of their efforts this morning when dyspepsia slammed him fast and hard, as if the most noxious cooking smells from these quarters_ and_ the effects of his very worst allergies nauseated him at once. A last flip of the carpet revealed a small Sith holocron. An unshielded Sith holocron.

Already bent nearly double in the small quarters, Anakin dropped to his hands and knees. The sickmaking sense of surety about Padme's affair hit him all over again, the galaxy flipped and he raised a hand helplessly to his lips, gagging. Yoda himself swayed a moment before calling a box to his claws and clapping the holocron into it. "Demonstration of these artifacts' power, this meeting was for. More effective than hologram or flimsi with diagrams, was it not?" From down the hallway clattered booted steps, one firm knock came and then a Knight whom Obi-Wan did not recognize burst into the room, lightsaber at the ready. The human's pale hair floated cloud-like about him as he swirled to defend his Grandmaster. Swift glances revealed nothing amiss.

"Master Yoda? I, I was down the hall and sensed a disturbance in the Force, a _sickness --- "_ The Knight still held himself in the Ataro mode, Obi-Wan noticed, altogether a fine exhibition of form and purpose. Obi-Wan's chest swelled.

"Yes, yes, an experiment we had this day, Knight Jennir. Commended, you are, for your readiness." Yoda made a small pass with his hand, and Jennir's gaze that had fallen to the carpet focused only on the ancient Master. "This item, return to Madame Nu. And stay away from Initiates' Hall and the nursery. More sensitive than we, younglings are." The Knight took the deceptively small box and left, leaving the scent of ozone in the air from his lightsaber. Obi-Wan preferred it to almost anything else.

The carpet in place, Yoda planted himself nonchalantly in its middle. "Examine it closely." Obi-Wan and Anakin did, lifting one edge to study the two-decimeter-wide alternating strips of terentatek leather and fabric. The fabric's dull green complemented the darker green of the leather. There was a plain binding of that same leather around the whole artifact, cracked in only a few places. Anakin wondered at the Jedi who had perished by this beast's talons, crushed by its mandibles while it speared future meals on its hideous back-spines. _If they were fortunate, they died quickly, otherwise they would live to hear their fellows' shrieks while waiting for their own demise. _He dredged up more information from those almost-forgotten lessons. If he thought hard enough, he remembered his small hands gripping a beige-covered knee while the shin bounced him as a mellifluous voice said, _**A Force-choke could be used effectively against terentateks, if the Knight were quick-thinking enough and not too badly wounded. **_Bile rose in his throat. _Obi-Wan hasn't taught me that yet, but he'd never let me become a Knight without knowing all that he knows. It must be one of the last lessons given to Padawans. _He shivered without knowing why and put the matter out of his thoughts.

"Made this in the spirit of triumph in an age of more unbridled emotions, our crafters did and it lay in the refectory's lounge area for two centuries, I am told. Few efforts were made to archive it, Madame Nu has informed me, it serving as an example to remind upcoming Jedi that the Dark Side can be defeated and turned to dross. What think you of this item?"

Anakin swallowed and cleared his throat as he looked around the room. "Perhaps if you changed the color scheme of your glowglobes, Master --- "

"Padawan, decorating advice at my age I do _not_ solicit. Master Kenobi, what do you say?"

Obi-Wan considered. His loquacity from earlier had deserted him. "A ... shield? Camouflage for a device or a person to engage a Darksider, a source of confusion to them ... Master?"

"Stay on target. Per_son_ ... or per_sons_ could fit inside this roll?"

"Perhaps two humans, or three Dagobans," Obi-Wan chanced. He recalled how enamored Master Yoda was of that planet and shocked himself by suggesting by merest nuance that Master Yoda was Dagoban. _I am bolder than before. What is happening to me?_

"Dagoban, Master Yaddle and I are _not." Pry, they do, even the Masters._

Obi-Wan lowered his head. "I beg pardon. Two humans, three Lannik, one Praci if it could solidify enough not to be absorbed by the fabric --- "

Yoda's bent gait became a waddle as he strode back and forth on the carpet in question. He stepped first on the leather strips horizontally, then the fabric strips for a full five minutes before continuing. "Feed on the blood of Force-sensitives, terentatek did and still do, though their numbers are lessened. Said to produce a near-rapture when this artifact is utilized by a follower of the Dark Side. A great treasure this would be to one who hates all that we are. Feed on _our_ lifeblood, such a follower would."

"Surely a metaphor, Master." _A metaphor, of course it is, Obi-Wan. You __**do**__ state the obvious at times. _Obi-Wan harrumphed and smoothed his already-smooth tabards.

_Sounding board for the ages, Master Obi-Wan is. Clarify one's thoughts by voicing common knowledge. _"Yes. Metaphor only. Onward, younglings. One who treasures dark things would pay any price for this, do you agree?"

"Within its resources, yes. But, Master Yoda, we cannot be so pressed for funds as to sell this artifact, though I realize the war is draining the Republic's coffers --- "

"Not speaking of selling for profit, only for gain." _Puzzle this out, they should be able to._

_"Gain? _Excuse me, Masters, but this sounds like one of Watto's schemes to undersell or cheat or something. I've eavesdropped on enough of his meetings to recognize wheeling and dealing. The Jedi have this thing, and if someone else gets it by hook or by crook, it will be to Jedi advantage. Am I right?" 'Profit' implied credits, 'gain' may mean non-monetary advancement. _Like grooming a customer, though Watto sometimes called them 'marks.'_

"Let us consider logistics, Padawan. This artifact may be used as subterfuge, in that it may be bugged? imbued with a toxin or those damaging nanobots that Master Koon is studying? Master Yoda, give us a clue, please."

Yoda studied the two attentive faces, one as eager as the other. _Together, they are, and yet not. Their flame has dimmed._ He dropped to the floor beside them. "Let me tell you of a Padawan named Dooku, who came to me after he was no longer a Junior Padawan. Master Cerulian taught him the heart of being Jedi, I thought, and so on swordsmanship, I concentrated when took over his training, I did. A fine Padawan he was, a fine Padawan." His ears drooped. "Later in life, his heart turned cold and sad I was that I had taught him swordsmanship, for cut _me_ deeply, he has."

_That same morning ..._

"Crystals, the most stable of structures, Milord Dooku." Grievous had to speak quickly and succinctly, because Dooku had a limited attention span when it came to materials science. _"_Droids made from crystallites could resist blaster bolts more effectively than our duralloy droids."

"How so?" Dooku fingered his family crest ring, waiting its vibrating signal that the latest _JediNow _auction had ended. He had bid today on items not entirely up to his standards and feared that his interest had saturated the market with hastily-produced, inferior product. _Trying to lure Honest1 into becoming jaded. I'll quit collecting before I allow my taste to be tainted by boredom. _He pulled his attention back to the conversation, stating what he remembered from classes over a half-century ago. "Almost all metal exists in a polycrystalline state. Surely you are not suggesting producing single-crystal metals. The cost and time alone are prohibitive. And how would we animate them?"

_Patience. _"Of course not, Milord. I am speaking of multiple-jointed droids made of crystallites, formed by covalent bonds such as are in silica. Such a droid would immediately reform around blaster bolts and lightsaber strikes. Their integrity would be secure, because any force applied against them could not disable them."

"What would power these droids?" _Hurry up. I sense it's nearly time._

"Since they are made of small crystallites, piezoelectricity generated by the pressure of their footfalls powers their internal mechanisms. If the material is not short-circuited, the applied charge induces a voltage across the crystallites for powering purposes."

"And to initialize this piezoelectricity?"

"One large push to get them started. It can be applied in the factory. They will be self-powering after that, due to cells inside them." _He's doing better than I surmised._

"Crystallites being small crystals, how are they grown?"

"By seed crystals in a molten bath of feeder material, with later application of the epitaxy process to form a new layer" --- _his eyes are glazing over, need to summarize --- "_and since they are essentially one large computer chip, their capacity for programming is phenomenal." _Show me you are half as far-sighted as Milord Sidious and approve this._

_Seize upon a familiar term and expound upon it when the rest is gobbletygook, Lesson Number Eight in __**How To Deal With Techhead Underlings.**_ "Feeder material. Is this material common or would it need to be purchased?"

"It's sand, Milord."

"There's certainly plenty of _that_ in the galaxy. And you will program them to your standards? I shall continue to form tactics and will apprise you of any specialized ability to program into them, but you have the expertise in schematics, a natural ability, I may add." _He does have a use. I chose him over Durge and Ventress as military leader._ A stray thought struck him. "Crystallites would perhaps form rainbows, would they not, in certain weather conditions?"

"Given their ability to refract, yes --- " _a possible diversion for any organics, good thinking, Milord, a first --- _"so a blurring of their outline may occur, another reason to favor crystalline droids over metallic, Milord."

_I shall be making art, rather than purchasing it._ Dooku's smile was thin. It puzzled Grievous. "Very well. I approve an immediate conversion to this process. Raid any source, any world you need for the feeder material."

_He jumped a little. His ring must have gone off. _"As you wish." Grievous took his leave as Dooku activated his comm station and ignored him.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

"Qui-Gon Jinn's passing into the Force caused more trouble than he ever would have thought of, though to rouse such introspection, to his liking, perhaps. Master Gallia dealt poorly with the passing of her friend; Obi-Wan, grief polluted your first months as Anakin's Master, and you, Anakin, mourned the father you thought you had gained." Obi-Wan swallowed hard and Anakin's eyes filled. They spoke of Qui-Gon at times, less as the years passed. It was natural, Obi-Wan told himself.

Anakin reached for the bowl of snacks that Yoda had set out and unthinkingly munched down a handful. They crunched and left a sweet-sour taste in his mouth. He ate a second handful and then a third, nearly clearing out the bowl. Obi-Wan did not notice. As if he had rehearsed this speech the same way that Obi-Wan did on any number of diplomatic missions, Yoda needed little time to launch into his story. "Qui-Gon Jinn's passing, tipping point it was for Dooku to Fall, I believe, but evidence before that event of his disappointment with the current Order, there was. But before all that, please the Order and his Master he did, for in swordsmanship, diplomatic ability, in both he excelled. In Jedi history, there was none better. Tours of the Temple he gave for many years, when have them we did on annual Open Temple days. Wonderful voice, no need of Force-projection had he." Yoda smiled. "Made history come alive with his passion, but always, always, his gaze turned backwards in time at the cost of the _now_. Yearn for olden days, he did. Criticize present days in the Order, in the Republic, many times. At the end, no longer could I send him to the Senate on briefings or factfinding missions; scornful of any Senator he became, no matter the being's integrity, or lack of it." Yoda opened and closed his scaled palms as if feeling his lightsaber. "Respect had he only for Supreme Chancellor." The ancient Master sighed. "But then had we all. Confided in me, in one of our last talks, that honor died the moment dueling became illegal. Understand, I did not, then as now."

_I can't imagine the Dark Side dominating someone I had raised. Yoda and Qui-Gon, how did you bear it? _"Master, he had his own path to follow. No one could choose it for him."

"History, a bad influence for some who become disenchanted with their lives. Makes them yearn for the impossibility of time travel." Yoda snorted. "Think you that the past was filled with larger-than-life beings, noble events, sense of grandeur?"

"Well, I really cannot say --- "

"Master Yoda, you have seen so much --- " Anakin said around a mouthful of snacks.

"Seen much, yes I have, Padawan. Seen that there is beauty in the here and now, in this day in Coruscanti spring that will be like no other day ... nine hundred years of days, I have seen ... eh, back to my point. Bad things, terrible things existed in the past, but my ex-Padawan did not consider those. Saw only the _story_ part of _history_, as we Jedi construct our story lessons with a beginning, middle, end and moral. Became confused with the safety of teaching history, that somehow at a remove it was, _controlled_ because it _was_ past. Think you that Nuur, Qel-Droma and Saresh felt in control when they were being shredded? No. Immediate and painful, their thoughts were. Dooku would reduce history to prettiness and brush away the real pain of life, a product of his wealth, a character flaw, I cannot say." Yoda rubbed his gimer stick back and forth on the nubbled leather of the carpet. "He loved beauty, also; some would call that a strength. But his weaknesses I know: for Jedi history" --- he thumped the carpet and Anakin jumped --- "for exotic things" --- Obi-Wan stroked the nap between the strips of leather --- "and for a bargain."

"It's for sale? Won't he be suspicious? Jedi have not _sold_ anything, we give away --- "

"Auction for high-spending customers, very elite clientele, is surfacing on the Holonet, but that is the Vice-Chancellor's and my responsibility. Exclusive relations with an art dealer on Naboo, we will cultivate for Dooku. He will not be able to resist the deluxe treatment." Yoda's ears swiveled. "Comm me this morning, the dealer did, with additional requests for another part of the plan. Helpful, he has been. Go to him there, you will, before heading back to Olanet."

"We're being sent back to Olanet? Something about the droid factory not being well-guarded by organics set my teeth on edge, Master, unless another issue has arisen." Obi-Wan selected one sweet-sour munchy out of the bowl. There were only three left._ Anakin didn't turn a hair when the Vice-Chancellor's name was mentioned. Good._

"Kaer Orbital Platform, near the next planet in the system, gas giant Siskeen, taken back from the Separatists by General Drakas, it was, and shut down. Intel scans show activity by organics, not merely maintenance droids or leftover dwarf spider droids that were manufactured there. Investigate clandestinely, you will, minus your battalion. But that's not all. Ask me about fitting beings inside the roll of carpet." He smiled with all his teeth.

Anakin replied blithely, "We two will be inside, of course, shielded by the terentatek carpet as long as we need to be for both of us to get close enough to capture Dooku, maybe roll him up in the carpet after we drug him or something. Master, we'll need rebreathers, or maybe pressure suits in case we're in some cargo hold without atmosphere --- "

"Yes, and an escape plan, also, because I wouldn't put it past Dooku's staff to show loyalty and try to stop us, he does have a certain charisma --- " _I felt it on Geonosis._

Anakin brushed off the crumbs from his snacks. "Wait. Master Yoda, what will stop any _normal_ means of scanning or a good swift kick to the roll if someone gets suspicious? We could be found out, or, or, Master could sneeze from the dusty thing --- "

"Anakin, haven't you noticed that I don't seem bothered by my common allergies like I used to? I was in Siri's quarters and didn't even sniffle." Obi-Wan realized how this sounded. "Not that they're dirty, mind you, just ... lived in." It still appeared open to negotiation, so he began, "She isn't there much, you realize, Master Yoda, and her priorities are to extend a hearty welcome to her guests and not fixate on pettiness."

Siri's welcome to Obi-Wan was still a touchy subject to Anakin. "Nevertheless, I don't want to test you with Hoi-Broth _or_ dust."

_Care less, I could __**not**__ about Master Tachi's housekeeping. _"Yes, yes, onward. Medicine for your condition, you could take --- "

"I _don't_ want to see the Healers. I'm _fine."_ _The fall, the troubles I had two years ago, I'm sick of seeing Healers._

_Backtalk? _Yoda took another, slyer tack. "Knight Eerin, here on rotation soon. Want to see her, you do not, because she is a Healer?"

_"Bant? She's_ coming home?" Obi-Wan wanted to whoop, but folded his hands in his lap instead.

"Soon. Coordinating efforts with Master Unduli and Master Allie at the hospital on New Holstice, lately her assignment was. Years it has been, since both your schedules coordinated, Obi-Wan," Yoda finagled.

_He's scheming._ "Naturally, I want to see her, Master, if the timing is right. Thank you for telling me."

"Um, Masters, about the plan, I think that the fewer people know, the better and that we should use _NabooExpress. _They've won awards." _They delivered my anniversary flowers to Padme, fat lot of good those did to keep the marriage together._

"Padawan Skywalker, this plan, micromanagement it cannot take. All devolves upon Count Dooku's _choice_ of this item." _And of the other items to sweeten the lot, but of this, you do not need to know. Besides, my ninth hour appointment will be arriving soon._

Anakin and Obi-Wan continued to discuss options, deciding that Dooku would not authorize damaging his fragile prize by either kicking or scanning and that he would want to open the package in private, the more to gloat. Obi-Wan pointed out that terentatek strips would prevent _them_ from sensing outward as well, and Anakin countered by maintaining that if the shipping service were to designate the package 'fragile, do not crush' that ought to be enough to prevent any accident. "The same as any other art object, Master, 'this end up' and so forth," he said, eying the carpet. _Not to my taste, but art is in the eye of the beholder. Or would this be called greed?_

_Plan well together, they do. A Knight soon, young Skywalker will be, if this succeeds. _Yoda let them talk. When they had wound down, he said casually, "Masters only will go on this mission. You, Obi-Wan, and Master Tachi. Noted, I have, your friendship's flowering. Approve, I do. Similar to the joining of Nuur, Qel-Droma and Saresh, a more intense joining of essences than most Jedi partners have. Padawan Skywalker, accompany your Master to Naboo and finish a task that only you can accomplish. Naboo has notified the Jedi of certain tax issues, pressing us for funds, they are, regarding some undoubtedly flawed documents regarding legalities." Yoda shook his head. "All systems could use funds now, but have time for this flimsiwork, I do _not._ Your name is involved and as you and Master Kenobi will travel to Naboo anyway, a small errand this will be for you alone. When leave, your Master and Master Tachi do, continue on to Tatooine to visit your family or return home."

Anakin bit his tongue to keep from protesting. _He's giving me small freedoms as a sop because I won't be coming along._ "Relationship, joining, essences, partners," those words ran through his head as a background for "Masters only."_ And what do I have to do with Naboo taxes? How bizarre._ The Master and his Padawan rose, bowing. They were nearly out the door when Yoda added absentmindedly, "Stop off at New Holstice and see Master Unduli, you will, Obi-Wan. Found out, you have been."

Obi-Wan turned at the door, straightening abruptly until the top of his head brushed the ceiling. "Master?"

"Med-tech on Olanet, gone over your head, he has and reported bloodwork results directly to Master Unduli. Refuse to discuss them with him, you did. Now she is concerned."

_"I'm fine."_

_"Go, _you will." _Obstinate as Qui-Gon, sometimes._

Obi-Wan huffed. "Very well. Come along, Anakin." He exited first, as was his right as Anakin's Master, which allowed Anakin to look back at Yoda and lift his eyebrows to accompany his shrug. Yoda did the same.

* * *

_It's nearly ninth hour, I need to leave, and Threepio is showing company to the sitting room. Maybe he needs another adjustment to his protocols. _Padme finished buckling her self-material belt that matched her dark blue jumpsuit, a more casual look than she normally wore, but then it would be coming off soon. 

"Your Excellency, a visitor from Naboo."

"Threepio, I'm about to leave and you knew it. What about my meeting with Master Yoda? That takes priority over anything."

Threepio inclined his head, but did not dither as he would have before his reprogramming two years ago. "Except for family, your instructions have always been, Your Excellency."

"_Family?_ I'm expecting no visits from Mama or Papa or anyone. Who is it?" She tied back her hair with a big swatch of stretchy blue septsilk, treated in a way to make it not slip down.

"Your cousin, a distant one named Enri Etolini. He seemed most polite." In this, Threepio had not changed. Snap judgments still poured from his vocabulator as before.

"All right. I've never heard of him, though." Padme's politician instincts took over and she swept into the sitting room with a gracious smile, where an apparition awaited her. _He's, he's, the most beautiful, guh ... _

Enri rose and bowed in a courtly way, then flashed a smile bright enough to power all the signs in Coruscant's night skies. "Cousin Padme, hello. Your father has given me a letter of introduction." And it _was_ a letter, on Mama's finest old-fashioned paper stationery, the kind she wrote helpful hints about 'meeting someone _special_' on. He waited until she had perused the broad strokes of her father's handwriting.

_Enri is your ninth cousin, two times removed. He would like to be shown around Coruscant. I told him you would. Don't be mad, honey. He's very nice. I'll comm you usual time next month._ There was an elegant piece of luggage behind the sofa, she saw now. She extended a hand after she had unclenched it. "Welcome, Cousin Enri. Threepio will put you up for now in the downstairs suite. I'm sorry, but I need to attend a meeting immediately. I'll make it home for lunch. Threepio, terratta strips and a plain salad and remember to chill ... something, whatever goes with that. Goodbye, Cousin. It's very nice to meet you."

He kissed her knuckles, something that hadn't happened since the dress-up parties at the Legislative Youth Group when the group dressed so formally that paparazzi came and spread their solemn young faces and fancy clothes all over the Holonet. She was taken aback. _Papa, is this a setup? I thought you'd quit sending me 'eligible' partners._ "You're all I need to make this day brighter, Cousin. It's very nice to meet _you." _He bowed again over her hand, long dark curls brushing the backs of her fingers.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

"Knight Olin here."

"Ferus, congratulations on your first solo mission!" Anakin couldn't hear his or Ferus' sublight engines clearly, but they rumbled in the background of their shipboard comm stations, a reminder that his friend was a full Knight and going out completely on his own for the first time. _Come back safely, teammate. We'll go to the Outlander one night and being-watch. It'll be interesting to know what your 'type' is._

"Anakin, thanks, but how did you find out?"

"Darra and Tru told me you had to head out in a hurry. They just left again, too. So did Obi-Wan and I. And Master Tachi." Knights both, Darra and Tru had had numerous missions as partners on Core worlds, as if the Order wanted to keep fledgling Knights close in to Coruscant before loosing them to Mid-Rim planets, much less Outer Rim tinderboxes. It made Anakin feel like any young citizen would whose friends were joining one of the Republic's service corps or branching out as entrepreneurs or in general trying their wings. _I can't help feeling stuck in mid-gear._

"Yeah, I saw them at lunch. Where were you?"

"In the Archives."

"No, really."

"I like reading. It doesn't like me, but I like it." Still taking classes, Anakin often studied alone in a carrel, feeling somewhat intimidating to his younger classmates because of his title and his age. They hadn't invited him to any of their study sessions. He didn't feel comfortable pushing himself into their company. The classwork for Advanced Astronavigation With Aspects Of Force-Enhancement intensified this last quarter before break and he earnestly desired a better grade than last time. Using the Force came easily as always, but bending the Force-currents around himself to simulate navigating all the trade routes, all the while virtual-piloting a SoroSuub V-35 Courier, ensured that he study the holocharts thoroughly first. It would have been easier with another student to quiz him, even though he did have Artoo's genius every fifth week in between missions. This week had been Padme's week.

"You'll do it. If _I_ can finish all the courses, the Chosen One can."

Ferus had meant to be uplifting, Anakin knew that. "Thanks. Where are you?"

"Secret, sorry. In fact, I'm about to flake out for hyperspace, sooooo ... May The Force Be With You, Advance Middy."

Something he'd overheard Siri whisper to Obi-Wan on Olanet the morning after the night they'd all bunked together came back to him. Ferus had still been all the way out just as daylight brightened the cabin, head flung back, mouth open with a little stream of drool dampening Anakin's tunic sleeve. The pins and needles sensation of his awakening left arm which Ferus had used as a pillow had roused Anakin enough to become aware that Obi-Wan and Siri stood at the cabin's small window, their faces in shadow as the Masters observed a sleeping Padawan and Knight. "If the Jedi had royalty, they would be our Crown Princes," Siri had said, and Anakin saw Obi-Wan's slight nod before resettling himself and going back to sleep. He knew which fairy tale Prince that Ferus would be. _The one who would come the closest to attaining perfection. The one least able to protect himself from betrayal. Take care, Flank Middy. _"May The Force Be With You, Ferus."

"We're coming up on the jump to hyperspace, Padawan." Obi-Wan took the co-pilot seat. Anakin looked back to the cargo space behind the two pilot seats and saw Siri curled up on one of their duffel bags. Obi-Wan followed his glance. "She seems upset about something, so I think she'll do herself good with a nap."

Four hours later, Anakin, Obi-Wan and Siri practiced their Jedi patience in line at Theed Spaceport Customs. "Your name has been flagged, Padawan Skywalker, I'm sorry. Please have a complimentary Altorian milk-ale for the adults in your group while you wait for an organic supervisor and an Aitha protein drink for yourself." The droid might have been a high-functioning female simulacrum, but the condescending tone coming from its vocabulator grated on Anakin's last nerve.

"I'm of age," he snapped. He might have gotten belligerent, but a sudden stir in the mostly-Theed-native crowd turned all heads. A Gungan preceded two women who peered almost comically from behind his arm-swinging bulk. "Dorme?" _And Ommane. Oh, better and better. Jar-Jar, too? Ahhhh ..._

_"_Padawan Skywalker, Master Kenobi, Master Jedi. We'd hoped to avoid all this." Junior Representative to the Galactic Senate Ommane Retbax had had in enough hours of imitating her former employer, Padme Amidala Naberrie Skywalker, to project a more mature air than her nineteen years. Dorme forged along at the the side of both her bosses through the last of the crowd, who suddenly remembered their reputation for good manners and minded their own affairs. Anakin waited for Padme to walk in the door to make the situation complete, but after a minute she did not show up. Small favors, he'd take them.

Jar-Jar got right to business. "Mesa _Senior_ Representative Binks. Whatsa bombad problem? Thesen Jedi moole friends." The Gungan did the best he could in each situation, thought Anakin, hoping he would be surprised by Jar-Jar's results. He had been before.

"Naboo Tax Board reports Skywalker, Anakin as two years delinquent in filing joint income taxes with his spouse and the Board would like him to sign an Injured Spouse Form 617 if his spouse has filed as single in order to receive more deductions than normal. Naboo Income Tax Law is quite specific that singles receive priority over marrieds --- "

"Meesa think yousa have berry, berry humongous breakdown in yousa noggin, Droid, erm, erm, Ate-a Zero Zero. Meesa take moole friends to _private_ room to disambiguate, isa okeeday with _yousa?_" Jar-Jar's eyestalks tilted forward as he loomed over the seated droid. He looked as warrior-like as Obi-Wan imagined he did at the Battle of Grassy Plains.

The droid made a show of clicking and tapping on its terminal screen while holodata coalesced in the air before it, _rrrrrr_ing noisily. "Conference Room Waterfall Vista is behind me, Representative Binks. You are cleared to use it," it sulked. The three Jedi grabbed their duffels and followed their benefactors gratefully. The room had indeed a panoramic view of a plunging waterfall that graced the environs of the spaceport. Anakin used the muted sound of it piped into the room for stability in his centering process while Dorme called up a file on a holoscreen.

"Ready," Dorme said, then wisely left the speaking to Ommane. The younger woman was a savvy boss, and Dorme intended to rise with her, Ommane's ambitions tied to Dorme's own.

"Padawan Skywalker, my deepest apologies to you and your Master and the entire Order. This came about because of the situation between you and Amidala after Geonosis." Ommane's voice was level and she seemed to have cured herself of that disconcerting habit of looking at someone from under her lashes and then away, as if the entire conversation were too intense to bear. This must be something to do with the marriage or the holyman, Anakin guessed. They had thumbed some datapad for the old gentleman but were too much enraptured with being actually married to read it. _I'd never make a barrister._ _Okay, so Jar-Jar and Master Tachi don't know about the marriage, Dorme and you do, and of course Obi-Wan. Juggling I can do. _

"Yes, we became friends" --- _and so much more --- "_then spent some time recovering from the Petranaki arena ordeal together." Anakin wanted this to be over fast. It was history, a history of lies from himself to Obi-Wan.

"You registered as spouses in the Theed Pleasure-rama Palace. The special room with the Vibrating Fingers of --- "

_"_I _said, _'Yes, we were together.' It was all my idea."_ She's making it sound like a fling, like we didn't actually thumb that marriage datapad. But ... taxes?_

Ommane's blue eyes remained steady, though Anakin perceived a trickle of amusement in her aura and the very slightest tremor of her square jaw. "The registration wrote to the Naboo Tax Board's database and when Amidala's taxes came through year after year as 'single, no dependents,' the Board red-flagged your name as a possible Injured Spouse. Amidala had confided in me about the Theed Pleasure-rama Palace stay during my employment with her and when Dorme showed me this, eh, glitch last week I made a note to erase the entry. It is entirely my fault that the Board's _errant _procedures led to your delay today. I could have taken care of it the moment I saw it. I apologize." She pulled her hands inside her overhanging sleeves and did a small obeisance, a grace she had learned from the same Legislative Youth Program handbook that Padme had read, Anakin supposed. "I will correct my error now. Dorme, if you will?"

Dorme highlighted the offending records and with a tap, all official documentation of Anakin's marriage disappeared to fading pixels. He felt a little sad.

"It's all right, it's over with." _You misdirect well, but I do not, repeat __**do not**__ believe you about forgetting. You've embarrassed me, good going, Retbax. The lie sounded plausible, just enough information to muddy the waters of truth._

"Mesa thinken why yousa here, Jedi." Jar-Jar seemed his old self now. "But mesa glad to see yousa, whyever why." The Gungan wrapped Anakin, Obi-Wan and Siri in a crushing embrace. He smelled like brackish water. "Mesa wantin you to bidiebye with mesa. Wesa be havin bombad good times, oie boie!"

"Kind of you, Jar-Jar, but we've made arrangements with another party. We couldn't bow out now. They're, they're sensitive." Obi-Wan looked to Siri, who nodded vigorously. "And we couldn't offend them." He smiled the way that Anakin hated. _My Negotiator smile._

Dorme knew when to step in gracefully. "Representative Binks, your last appointment of the day will be arriving at your office, and Representative Retbax, your manicurist is waiting there already. I'll have the transport brought around. Master Jedi, Customs will check your baggage and that should be all." She went to the corner of the room to comm. _I like Anakin. He made Milady happy for months and months and he was always nice to me. I'm glad to be out of the dating game, though._

_Mesa always thinken when teen Ani grow up to be biggen Ani, hesa and Obi-Wan mui mui __**mui**__ palos, but mesa wrongo before. _"Thankee. Wesa goen." Anakin, Obi-Wan and Siri endured another embrace. "Mesa yous humbule servant."

The three Jedi bowed a farewell to Ommane and Dorme, Anakin giving Ommane a measuring look as she departed. _She read the nuances and kept Padme's and my secret well enough. Padme was right to suggest her as a Junior Senator._ "So, Siri, did you have a place in mind to sleep tonight?" he heard Obi-Wan ask.

_The Chosen One and Amidala. Go figure._ "Nope. Let's think about it after your appointment with this Palo. He might have some ideas." They shouldered their duffels once more, but the officious femdroid bustled in a decorous minute after the politicians had left.

"Privacy for the Jedi, Representatives stated and Representatives shall _be obeyed._ Open your bags, please, Jedi." The voice managed to sound bored. Obi-Wan undid the ties to his bag and waited patiently. One of the probing droid's metallic fingers snagged his least-worn undertunic, but he said nothing. The meditation on the four-hour trip to Naboo had helped. Beside him, Siri spilled her bag on the table near the comm and made the droid pick up each item and replace it neater than it had been originally packed. Her wink at him over the droid's bent head almost made Obi-Wan laugh.

Anakin dumped his bag, too, and it clinked suspiciously. _Ooops. Now I'll need to explain._ The femdroid's deft fingers unrolled a cylinder of soft undergarments. Two bottles of Whyren's Reserve Lite rolled together onto the table, a dark suspicious rattle. Obi-Wan's frown made Anakin almost flinch. He wished for their BondSpeak again, to reassure his Master that he wanted the liquor to take to anyplace that he decided to visit, after Obi-Wan and Master Tachi left. _It's nothing, it will help me relax when you are away._

_He's not breathed a word about my going with Siri and not him. He's buried everything. _Obi-Wan kept his exasperation out of his voice. "I can vouch for anything. My padawan acts on my instructions ---- "

Anakin didn't hear the rest of Obi-Wan's speech and when the three of them hailed the airtaxi, he was still rehearsing his explanation in his head.

_In a Jedi Temple hallway ... _

Of all the _physical _things to miss in her Jedi Temple home, Adi Gallia thought that she would miss Soul Healer Regork's heat lamp the most. A Coruscanti spring was geared to the requisite number of gloomy overcast days, all in the aesthetic of making Coruscant's unnatural surface as natural as possible. Today was such a day, glowering clouds covering a weak sun, reaching a depression in Adi's soul that matched the outside gloom. _I'm all right. I __**am**__ better than yesterday. He said to expect setbacks._ The eastern corridor with its banks of windows showed the usual speeder traffic, though it was still too early for any vehicle to have its running lights on. To Adi, the lack of shine on any of the vehicles made them appear as gray slags of metal without color, without individuality. _Like how I felt yesterday. I can see that now. _When she and Tiin and perhaps Koon and Siri left the Order along with the others, they would need to stay together until the Force smoothed out around them, for surely they would be as uprooted just as Knight Fee did the few weeds in his cherished Temple gardens. _And speaking of plants ... _

"T'ra Saa, is that you?"

The Neti in the deep shadows seemed to have a blurry outline, but when she turned to face Adi, her familiar wide smile below the Romin nose was the same as ever. "Adi Gallia, it's been a long time." The two knew each other slightly, T'ra's away missions leaving not much time for fraternization with many Jedi except Tholme. Except for the fact that T'ra had trained Mace all those years ago, Adi knew little about her. _Maybe I should try to learn about her. If she were to join us, a Jedi with her centuries of experience could only be beneficial._

"Have you heard about what's going on, T'ra? You've been out of loop about Temple gossip." _If gossip would appeal to her. I don't know, I just don't know._

"Don't have a moment, perhaps later, Adi? I'm just out of my appointment with Regork and need to meditate." Adi looked around. Without knowing it, her steps had led her to Regork's door. _A Neti needing advice from a Soul Healer. The Force shows me remarkable things every day._

"Of course, T'ra." _Say something else. Make a connection._ "I have trouble with cloudy days, don't you? It's the flattening of the shadows or something, the lack of warmth, uh --- "

"Yes, yes! It's hard to put a tendril on. I feel that way often." T'ra seemed about to expand on this, but caught herself. "Well, Adi, I need to go. Don't want to undo the good that's been done." She pulled her cloak more completely around her and pulled down her cowl as if chilled. "May The Force Be With You."

_Dismissing me. _"May The Force Be With You." Adi watched T'ra waft away and considered knocking on Regork's door, but didn't.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

In between Obi-Wan and Siri in the back of the airtaxi, Anakin stared at the opulent scenery of Theed, thinking hard about this morning. Seeing Dorme and Ommane again rooted things up from his past he'd thought he could deal with more smoothly. If he'd handled things better in his marriage ... no. The dream-purpose had been real and true. The Order _was_ changed and if he'd stayed in his marriage or somehow ignored the promptings of the Force, he had no clue how to include Padme if he continued living at the Temple. That wasn't the Force's fault, he thought, it was mine. And since Padme and Ommane had broken up, where would that leave Obi-Wan and himself? He would go to comfort Padme and if Obi-Wan could have found it in his heart to consider her a friend, Obi-Wan would have, too. Assuming, of course, that neither one of them had fallen in the war. _I don't think Obi-Wan would have understood or been able to handle Padme's serial partners. Maybe I wouldn't have, either._ The rainclouds that had gathered since their arrival threatened to drop their load of moisture soon. The scent filtered through to his senses, humid tastes of dirt and roots and impending ... _something.__It's this mission that Obi-Wan is going on. And my vision of him falling, this time without me to catch him ... _

_Anakin looks broody. This morning must have been nostalgic for him about his marriage. _Obi-Wan's armor poked his shins through the duffel bag in the crowded back of the airtaxi. Their driver, an unusually subdued Gungan, kept his thoughts to himself about the arches and the little bridges over the Solleu River's ebb and flow and the undoubtedly fascinating beings living in the water. The planet was beautiful as he remembered. Qui-Gon had approved of the natural curves in the buildings, the patina on the roofs. _Master, I miss you. _They passed from the downtown area to a suburban area, different than what Anakin had told him of the Naberries' neighborhood. Instead of brick homes and people living close by, this section of town could be called the outskirts. There were larger bits of property, some secluded with rows of privacy-giving trees where a visitor who did not know the occupants would have a difficult time discerning an address. This area would be perfect for raising younglings, Obi-Wan thought, looking at a field in front of a comfortable-looking one-story home. A mother shaak raced with her colt to the end of the paddock and then back, as graceful as a creature that size could get. Their airtaxi was the only vehicle for kilometers that he could see. _Families. Marriage._ Obi-Wan leaned forward to glance past Anakin at Siri, who seemed absorbed in observing a planet new to her. The gloomy sky turned her eyes the same shade as Anakin's as it stole the highlights from her aurodium-shaded hair. He wondered what it would be like to own a woman. To have had the experience that his Padawan had had, to wake up legally bound next to the one who would always be there, who had the capability to bring new life born of their love into the galaxy. Siri would be fiery in bed and prickly the rest of the time, he guessed, and as years passed would she mellow with a patina like the Theed Royal Palace's rooftop or would she toughen as she had been tough all those years between Qui-Gon's passing and Olanet? Siri was soft where Anakin was hard planed muscle --- _sort of squishy --- _but from their swims in the Room of One Thousand Fountains he knew there were some intriguing points with muscles flexing like anakkonas atop her arms. He could imagine today her white arms through her layers of robe and tunic and undertunic ... _there would be only one layer if she'd worn her unisuit this mission ..._

"_Stop. _Driver, this is it. Siri, do you mind walking onto the studio's property? Might be good to stretch and walk the land." Qui-Gon would have suggested that. Siri shrugged and Anakin muttered something. They walked through the recently-rained on soil past rows of slender trees interspersed with cloudflower patches. The bucolic scene entranced Siri, too, and the two of them pointed out plants whose names they could only wonder at. Obi-Wan wracked his memory for the names of the flowers whose blossoms went into the making of Naboo's famous blossom wine. _Perhaps the awful thing that happened obliterated the details in the briefing on Naboo that Qui-Gon and I had, thirteen years ago. I'll bet Qui-Gon would have remembered them, if our positions were reversed today. _

There was a beat-up speeder in the yard with its rain-shield activated and a _Vote For Kylantha, The Apathetic's Choice! _sticker near its twin exhausts. Anakin reached the front door of the sprawling home ahead of Siri and Obi-Wan. He paused there respectfully, watching them stroll along, as if they weren't about to head off into danger. _Mfff. Like Padme and me admiring flameflowers in the Maze behind 500 Republica._ Anakin waited until they were reunited on the porch before knocking and allowing the sensor to sweep their images. He heard footsteps approach and then the door was flung wide.

"Right on time, Master Jedi. Welcome, and you too, Commander." Anakin saw a man in a unisuit similar to Siri's, except Siri's had never been covered in paintwith glitter in it. The man made a halfhearted attempt at offering his hand, then bowed as much as his paunch would let him. "I'm working in children's statuary today, the _My Little Gualaar_ series. How the kiddies do like shiny things." Anakin wondered at Master Yoda's instructions, because this was the least assertive being he could imagine. Dark curls framed a pudgy face carrying a pleasant expression free of guile. Anakin bowed politely and performed the introductions for Obi-Wan and Siri. They left their duffel bags on the porch as the artist gestured them to follow him through a cluttered home towards its back door. Anakin passed a comm station tuned to a continuous political feed as he lagged behind to gauge this home's occupants. The studio lay behind the home, along a path festooned with climbing plants bursting with springtime blooms. The bright flowers didn't lift his mood.

_I hope this goes well. I've never met Jedi. _"Palo of Naboo." There was a question in the bearded Jedi general's voice, though he was too polite to voice it.

"Yes, no surname. It's like Amidala, a regnal name but in my case it's an artist's name. My wife likes it." Palo gestured to a holofrieze on the double-doors leading into the studio and Dorme's face smiled at Anakin as Palo pushed open the door._ Dorme. Of all people. Palo of Naboo. Palo, that's familiar. Palo?_ He groaned enough that Obi-Wan touched his elbow, a questioning look on his face, but Anakin brushed away any concerns with a flattened palm. It was unfair to face relics of his relationship with Padme twice in one day. He knew Padme who knew Dorme who had married Palo who had known Padme. _Is this a degrees of separation thing? Is it two or three, or any at all? _And he knew _of_ Palo from before, from Padme's description. Curls, dark hair and eyes, artist after leaving the political arena._ But he feeds a remnant interest in politics via the streaming political station. _

Siri stared at the rows of modeled gualaars, some with shining horns, some with glittering braided tails. "People buy these for their younglings?" She picked one up. "They're ... appealing." She turned it upside down. "'Sixty-eight out of ninety? Limited edition?'"

"It's a series, as I said, Master Tachi." _She needs something to occupy her. "_Look around all you want. Pick out something for yourself or your ... um, I mean, this might take a while." The Jedi quirked an eyebrow at him and wandered away, hands clasped behind her. "Now then, General, Commander. The Vice-Chancellor and your own Master Yoda have enlisted me to help in the cause of peace. Just the other day, it came to me that the Negotiator and the Hero Without Fear team would make prime collectibles and this is the result." He picked up a packet about the size of a personal holoemitter and handed it to Obi-Wan. "The prototype, but when you approve you will sign each item and the attraction to the buyer will be that much greater, don't you see?"

Obi-Wan skimmed off the plasticine wrapping, opened the packet and inside were a multitude of holocards, each in its sleeve. He handed half to Anakin, expecting him to perk up as he usually did at things mechanical or electronic. He examined his half as the artist shifted his weight from foot to foot. His palmprint seemed to be the activator of the card as he removed the first one from its sleeve and lay his hand flat at eye-level.

"My eyes don't focus and my beard is too bushy. Why can't a hologram be true?"

"Artistic license or a flaw in the holocard. See here, I look like an Ansion grasshopper in this one. You can't see my saberwork for my legs jumping around like that." _Master Antana's hologram looked better than this, but at least I'm modestly dressed. Nothing bouncing around._ Anakin handed the cards back to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan replaced the holocards in their sleeves, slid them back carefully into the packet and handed it to Palo. "I'm sorry, Palo, but I don't believe Count Dooku will want to collect this piece of art, or whatever this is."

"I designed these pieces."

"Oh."

"Look, General Kenobi, I don't pretend to be an expert in the field of collectibles. Things like these sell well in my shop and I've been in touch with the Bottoms Holocard Cartel, the top in its line of business, and these items compare well in quality. My forte is sculpture, solid and holosculpture and friezes for buildings, but these things are popular and I am a businessman with a family now. I know my market."

Anakin spoke up. "And we are to sign these, why?" The impending rain made his stump ache a little and he wanted this to be over with.

"It's part of Yoda, sorry, Master Yoda's and Padme's plan to entice Dooku to bid on a certain lot in an auction. He's been known to favor signed items. I'm not privy to many details, but I trust their sincere desire to end this war." Palo sobered. "I'm thinking galactically and not locally here. We Naboo are safe enough so far."

"And Count Dooku bids on Jedi items" --- _like terentatek carpets--- "_on the Holonet, yes, Master Yoda said so. How do we know? Does he use an obvious username?" Obi-Wan's detective nose sniffed the air. "Does he leave electronic footprints? I'd think not, he or his underlings are surely clever --- "

Palo had dealt with troublesome signers before, particularly in opera. He had not thought to run into any Jedi divas, but a firm hand was always best with any diva. "I've said the reasons why. I cannot _force_ you to sign, General." Anakin saw a hint of durasteel under the man's soft appearance.

"Give them to me. I'll sign. I trust Padme." Palo handed him a special inscriber and the young Commander sat at the worktable. The bearded Jedi gave his apprentice an indecipherable look and sat beside him. They passed each card to the other and signed not only the prototype batch, but the fifty duplicate batches that Palo had stayed up all night to complete. The blonde Jedi approached Palo with a gualaar held outstretched, as if it would gore her.

"This one. For me. Hold it, will you? I can't take it along." 

Her choice had iridescent bows tied in its tail and gilded wings that Palo had added in an unrealistic touch of whimsy. "I'll forward it to the Temple, Master Tachi. Bring your things out back. The guesthouse is set up for you."

"We can't impose --- " Siri and Obi-Wan spoke at once, but Anakin wasn't surprised. Each Naboo citizen he'd known, even Palpatine, had been hospitable like this. _But Palpatine had an agenda. And I fell for it._ There was a thunderclap as the rain came through on its threat.

"We accept," they said as one.

The guesthouse cabin was a duplex, as rustic as their cabins on Olanet, stocked with enough comestibles so that they would not need to bother their hosts tonight. Obi-Wan used the rest of the afternoon to don his armor and check it redundantly, as he had seen his troops do countless times. Anakin watched him glumly. "Aren't you going to ask me about the Whyren's?"

A patter of rain against the window sounded louder to Obi-Wan than normal. "You said at home, 'now you knew what you'd been missing.' I assume you want to explore your tolerance. Wherever you do it, I trust you to take care of yourself. If you're 'of age,' Padawan, you can be responsible." He still could not force himself to wear a helmet, though if he changed his mind, he could pick up one on New Holstice. He finished the last systems check and undid everything. There was the usual _skick_ noise as the armor magnetically disengaged from its black bodystocking's gription field. Obi-Wan let it all go at once, rather than his usual neat practice, a piece at a time, a vambrace here, a gauntlet there, pauldrons and greaves last of all. He scratched himself thoroughly and sighed. "Anakin, draw me a bath, please."

Anakin grumped, "Alone? Or with me, for a change?"

They might as well face off now. This morning had left a nasty taste on both their tongues. "Padawan, we must be more understanding of our needs, our limitations. I meant alone, of course."

It had been a rough morning for Anakin, too. "You mean I can touch you like a brother, like a brother fellow Knight or even your brother by birth, but bathing with you would be too much for weak little old me?" The words bubbled up and he seemed helpless to stop them. "I'm neither fifteen, nor eighteen, nor yet twenty, when we became lovers. Did I ever force myself on you, Master?" The term, once so sweet on his lips, soured after almost fourteen years of Padawanship. He made no move towards the 'fresher.

_I shouldn't have to discipline you at twenty-two. I'm a bit tired of doing it._ "Bathing alone is practical in our situation. We don't want to stir something into our daily mix that will complicate things, while we're here in the field, anyway. Communal showers are, well, different. More impersonal." Obi-Wan stowed the armor in the far corner of the cabin, near to a small hole that he supposed held a rodent. It wouldn't dare to stick its head out into an atmosphere like this, if it knew what was good for it. He wished he could have a burrow of his own at this moment.

"Draw your own bath. I'm checking the perimeter." Anakin had only to yank up his hood to be ready for the storm outdoors. "There's no lock on any door here, to the outside or to the kriffing _wet bar_, but you needn't be concerned. I respect boundaries." He left the latchstring inside as he marched outdoors.

"Anakin, you don't need to. This _isn't_ a war zone --- " Obi-Wan offered, but Anakin had left.

_Meanwhile, next door ..._

Siri did her final crunch, scorning the rag rug for the hardwood floor as it ground into her lower back. As a cooldown, she grabbed an ankle in each hand and let her legs sprawl, feeling the pull, managing the pull to avoid those cracking sounds she had heard in her back lately. _Something is going on with those two. Will I need to intervene?_ More disquieting waves of emotion rumbled through her center that she had just strengthened. She and Ferus had spent the last year of his Padawanship reviewing all his teachings, from the simplest katas to the most intricate ways to meditate. The final moment, when she had cut his braid, he smiled up at her and she had to remind herself that yes, this was the goal they had both wanted. She really did not want him to live with her anymore; she wanted the best for him and he had reached the mark. She had embraced him as a brother Knight with the tiniest of sobs against his neck, then poked him roughly in the chest. "Payback for being sick on me after Euceron, Knight Olin." He had gripped her upper arms and given her a little shake in newfound equality. _But Skywalker is our Chosen One. Shouldn't I make myself available for him to talk if he needs it? _She got to her feet, but just then a door slammed and the waves settled down into a ripple of discontent. _I'll stay in here. Each of them knows where I am._ Siri withdrew a protein bar from the cooling unit for a solitary dinner. She would be with Obi-Wan for some time; no use wearying of each other.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

"Sorry about last night. He went for a stroll, got back late and we had words."

"It _was_ loud."

"He's gotten it out of his system, I think. And you realize he is concerned about my health."

Siri put down the outdated copy of the _Internal Journal _and thumbed a hold on _Head Tentacle Shrinkage: Are Nautolans Concerned Enough? _to read when Obi-Wan's turn came."You're making excuses for him." She shifted on the banque seating, edging close enough to show her growing scowl. Obi-Wan looked away.

"I'm not the most communicative Master at times. I think this mission will do us both good. He needs to practice being on his own."

"I've been busy with my own career, Obi-Wan, and I don't look at the HoloNews much, but don't you think the _Negotiator_ could avoid shouting?" _I don't get what they have together. If this is the new Jedi Code in play, maybe Adi is right to leave._

_I'm not going into details, but you deserve something. _"Two years ago, Anakin and I changed the tenor of our roles. He_ does_ know more than I do about some things."

"Well, of course he does, but you don't _tell_ Padawans that!"

"And why not? We were on a mission where our lives were at risk. Something happened to make us closer. I came to treasure him more." Obi-Wan sat straighter. "And why are you surprised? Siri, you've said 'he's our Chosen One, he's our Chosen One' a lot lately. He _is_ different."

"He's under your roof and your care. Somebody has to be Master, and that somebody is _you._ You don't let a Padawan holler at you, I don't care if he _is_ special." _There would be disciplining this morning if Ferus had done that. Instead you two sat together on the transport to New Holstice like nothing had happened. _

"Maybe I'm letting the war get to me too much. I'm weary of it, Siri, even though lately I've felt better physically somehow."

"Stars and galaxies, you're in the right place to get checked out. Luminara is the best." _She is our mutual friend. She'll help you. _"You're putting yourself down and that's not the Obi-Wan that I remember standing up to Qui-Gon Jinn and leaving the Order."

Obi-Wan's lips twisted. "That was a long time ago. We've both mellowed; I'm thirty-eight, you're thirty-six."

Siri's mouth dropped open. "We're at the top of our game. Each of us has passed our Trials, been Knighted, had a Padawan under our belt and speak for yourself, brother Jedi, because _I_ feel great!" She stood up, arms akimbo. "Look at me." _Luminara said they were sleeping together when I commed her from Olanet, but I don't see how sharing a bed could lead to insubordination._

Siri had a great deal going for her; if only she could tone it down at times, Obi-Wan thought. He saw her as maverick as Qui-Gon had been. Each one had had issues with being a Jedi, Qui-Gon with obeying the Council and Siri with her past as a slaver cum pirate cum general bully. He felt as if he were being bullied right now. "I see you. I see you. What else do you want me to say?"_ Would you do this if we weren't alone in the waiting room?_

"I want you to say, 'Siri, you make a good partner. Siri, we'll finish up here with whatever niggling thing that healers want to do with you and then we'll head out to that orbital platform and not stop until we know what's what and if there _are _organics messing around up there, we'll capture them and drag the truth out of them.' _Say it."_

_Kriff. I think I liked it better when we weren't talking to each other._ "'Siri, you make a good partner.'"

"And?"

"And you don't understand how things are between Anakin and me, that's all. And I want you to drop it." Fatigue from a restless night washed over him, but he diverted it. Inside the examination room, he sensed a peculiar rigidity in the Force preceding a Praci solidifying itself in preparation to donning its special Jedi uniform with a plasticine lining. Their osmosis was stopped that way and it helped their concentration on staying semi-solid. Obi-Wan knew they had some value to the Order, but they were possibly the most _problematical_ of Jedi and if they weren't so kriffing nice and if they didn't literally wear their hearts on their sleeves, he doubted whether any Praci would be gathered by the scouts that traveled the galaxy to investigate Force-sensitive infants. Praci nearly always wound up in the Council of First Knowledge, reading in that Council's Archives or accessing ancient Jedi knowledge via the holocrons. They needed special equipment for handling the holocrons, too, something to insulate them from any electrical discharge or they could be boiled to scum in a matter of minutes. _Sometimes things are just too much trouble. Speaking of which ..._

"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry I'm late. Master Tachi, Master Allie wants to see you in her office for a pre-mission checkup."

"Balls. All right, thank you, Padawan. Meet you two at the transport. The sooner we leave, the better." _I'm fine, Obi-Wan is fine except between his ears, and Skywalker hasn't been ill since Ferus gave him his cold on Euceron, Obi-Wan says. Waste of time being here. _Siri trotted away.

This office of Luminara's had both an entrance door and an exit door, making awkward encounters and questioning looks obsolete. Her waiting room lacked any piped-in music, as if the immediacy of treating Jedi wounded required the utmost of concentration. There would be very little elective surgery here. The silence grew until Obi-Wan registered that Anakin's hands were greasy. "You're dirty. Why?"

"Pre-flight check showed a leak in the franistan supraornal capacitator valve. It's fixed now." Anakin dug at something under his nails. "What do you think she'll say?"

Obi-Wan snorted. "Something about dropping you off wherever you want to go and then leaving for the mission. I'd say the same thing. It's time we" --- _separated for a bit --- "_got on with the war."

"No, I meant Master Lu."

"We passed the Memory Moth Memorial on the way in, that's why you're worried about me, isn't it." A glowing swirl by night, a pale whirlwind by day, the memorial's whispers of Jedi who had passed on had gotten to Obi-Wan, too. "Anakin, I'm feeling fine. Except that I'm a little tired out from last night."

"I don't like us separating."

_Finally it comes out._ "It's an observation mission, primarily, and if we need backup, we know where to get it. Padawan, you have done your part by straightening out that tax mess and by signing your holocards." Obi-Wan gave him a moment to digest this, then said, "Master Yoda knows that you and I are the best team, no, the most appropriate team, for the terentatek carpet scheme. Think of that instead."

"I still don't l--- "

"Obi-Wan and Anakin, come on in." A frazzled-looking Luminara waved them into the room, a wet rag in her hand. "Don't mind this my orderly is ill today and I'm swamped great gobs of Praci all _over_ this floor don't slip Obi-Wan no you don't need to get up on the table ... _There."_ She straightened, tossed the rag into the steri-disposal unit and waved her hands under the exam table's blue sterilizing field. "_There._" Luminara sat on a corner of her desk, looking for all the galaxy like a worn-out rag herself, her cowl askew. But in the Force, her aura glowed with happiness and a thread of what Obi-Wan would call 'scientific curiosity,' a blue-white sharpness spiking in his direction. She beamed at him. "Obs, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. Whatever the med-tech told you, I feel fine. No knee pain, hair's all grown back, see?"

Her discerning gaze included Anakin. "My back is all right, too, Master Lu." _She's busy and understaffed if a replacement orderly couldn't be found. Why is she this happy?_

_I want to shout this. _"Obi-Wan, your cristae have increased monumentally. Your midichlorians' electron transport chain's molecules are organized in such neat little bundles, which is _so_ like you, that, that your hydrogen ion gradient is greater than any other Jedi's, except Anakin's." She swung a booted leg in his direction, tapping his knee. "Isn't that marvelous?"

_Seize upon the word that you know when conversing with a techhead. _"My midichlorians. Like Anakin's."

_"_Yes, Obs! This means that your midichlorian count is comparable to his, not as high, but comparable. Let me show you." The lights waved off, the holodiagram filling the room attacked his senses, and Obi-Wan tried with all his might to follow the inner workings of his midichlorians which were themselves inner workings of his cells. The cristae were membrane shelves that organized the mechanisms that fed energy to his body, and somehow he had more access to hydrogen and the membrane shelves became more dense as the need arises, thus allowing him more energy ... 

"I needed more energy to survive because of my trip to the upper levels of atmosphere on Olanet, so I got more energy from --- "

"From the aurora's radiation, I'm postulating. It was all in the med-tech's report of your 'tingling sensation bathing all parts of you' as you stated. Did you feel the Force up there?"

"I wasn't sure, Lu. It could have been, but I wasn't consciously using it. I blacked out very quickly."_ I do feel better than I have for some time. _"You're not going to keep me here for tests, are you? Siri and I have a mission starting right now." A Healer's authority superceded even Master Yoda's.

Luminara regained some composure. "I'd love to keep you here. But the samples of your tissues and not your bloodwork gave me this information, and since the data showed no change in between one transmission and the next, I'm stating that your midichlorians are in a basal state. I'll take a tissue sample today and compare with past data, but my hypothesis upon observing you these past minutes is that you are showing no inimical symptoms, and that's what I'm concerned about. Sit still." She pressed a metal cylinder to his forehead where the regrown patch of skin was, and then to his hand where he had sustained no injury. "All done. Go on your mission, comm me if anything strange occurs, and May The Force Be With You." She was already at her desk again, tapping the analyzer, taking notes on her datapad. "If I need more samples, use your analyzer to send me another transmission, Obi-Wan. Inside the cheek is fine."

"Master Lu."

"Anakin, yes?"

"His midichlorians are mostly like mine."

"Yes, Padawan."

"So we can be closer like before."

"Yes."

"Oh. That's all. May The Force Be With You."

"May The Force Be With You. Comm me if you observe differences worthy of comment. I don't foresee any since it has been weeks since the incident, but my door is always open to you, Anakin." She embraced them both in a post-Jedi-Code revision hug and kiss goodbye, then buried herself again in her work and missed the dippy smiles on both their faces.

* * *

_Meanwhile, on Coruscant ..._

Healer Regork indulged himself in a bath under his own heat lamp. He lay as still as a granite slug that had just eaten, then flipped slowly over on his diagnostic couch to lie with his snout over the edge. _Sso good. Ssusstained warmth, vitamins bathing my hide, making my colorss richer ... ooooh ... _All his thoughts calmed, his plans for the future, the war news that he followed assiduously, though he was Temple-based. He contemplated the next holonet auction in a distant corner of his consciousness. _Possessionss, can't think of anything elsse than thiss that I need. I'm done with buying off the Holonet._ He closed his lids and allowed his tongue to lap over his teeth in total relaxation. After a while he dozed off. He didn't see the blinking light on his lamp or hear padding footsteps and the tiny _snick! _of metal on metal.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

"Master Allie will be finished with Master Tachi soon and then you'll go. Let's head for a closet."

"A closet."

"A _linen_ closet. This is a hospital and there ought to be pillows and comforters and such, much nicer than the Senate building's janitor closet when Padme and I used one -- " _Ooops. _

_Now I'm out of the mood. _"Oh, I don't _think_ so." With Obi-Wan's knowledge of his parity with Anakin came revitalized bodaciousness. He walked ahead of Anakin down the corridor in Masterly mode as he had not done yet this week and did not look back to see if he were being followed two steps behind, one step to the left. Their imprinting flared in his mind as he reached a service level of the Jedi hospital and closed his eyes, turning slowly in a circle. _Water. In there. No sentients. _When Anakin caught up to him, Obi-Wan grabbed his metal wrist roughly, leading him at a brisk march through the unlocked door. The odor of water treatment chemicals tickled Obi-Wan's nose and instead of sneezing as he would have before Olanet, he swept the room with a gaze as he Force-pushed on the lights to half-power. It was a hydrotherapy suite, three whirlpools with their attendant patient-lifting cranes ready when to ease wounded Jedi into the soothing warmth. No whirlpool gurgled, but each spa was prepared for patients with already heated water. There were two for human/humanoid size Jedi and a large one for Whiphids or even larger species, like Phlogs.

Anakin said nothing as he undid his cloak, but in this a forceful Master halted him with a look, undoing the clasp of cloak and belt with blinding speed. Anakin held his arms at his sides, allowing swift fingers and maybe a touch of the Force to slip off tunics, outer and under, and boots and socks until he stood clad only in his undergarment. Unlike minutes ago by the nurses' station, his cock was not interested in the proceedings. He reached down with his flesh hand to cup it, but Obi-Wan bunted his hand aside and finished the gesture.

"Ob-- "

"Quiet. I'll show _you_ a closet." Obi-Wan fed his indignation by thrusting one hand into the fly to dig and delve as his other hand found its way into the dropseat behind and roamed freely. Anakin's eyes rolled back in his head as he spread his legs further apart, laying his forehead on Obi-Wan's shoulder. When the pressure behind turned to a probe, he half-cracked open an eyelid and gasped at what he saw. Eyes stared at him, eyes from the rows of med-droids lining shadowed wallslots in the suite, ready to assist the healers. Condensation from the room's humidity bedewed the trapezoidal lenses and a cock-seized Anakin shuffled a step forward, wide-eyed now, as Obi-Wan backed up against the droid, wiping one hand across the unresponsive face to wet it. Obi-Wan replaced his dripping hand on Anakin's ass, nudging aside quivering cheeks to tap and then press inside him. Past ring after trembling ring the droid watched without comment as the Padawan gasped _yes _and_ harder _and _been so long._ From grinding to almost yanking, Obi-Wan's attention to Anakin's front buckled Anakin's knees.

"Stand up." From out of nowhere, Obi-Wan sensed Siri's crankiness with the measured progress of Stass' exam and relaxed a little. _We have some time, not much. _He eased off the pace. With a sighing moan, Anakin put his arms around Obi-Wan's neck and leaned his forehead against his. Obi-Wan gentled his approach, pulling out and back. He slid Anakin's undergarment off and even more quickly shed his own garments. "Into the water after me." He stepped down five steps into the spa, dimming the overhead lights to one-quarter, as he settled himself on the duracrete seat. Now the steam from the septsilk-smooth water made Anakin half-invisible, waiting with his hands at his sides for the next command. Somewhere between steps one and five Anakin had undone his braid. Obi-Wan caught his breath. "Now," he said, finding the pressure plate for the single underwater light by his heel. The water glowed.

_Like a warmed Gitchy. Mmmmm ..._ Anakin figured his blunder had gotten him treated like a rag doll and obeyed without question. But he couldn't resist throwing in an inspiration of his own. With a dramatic gesture, he clapped his palms together and then separated them slowly. The steaming water parted down to the floor of the spa, surging to the sides while held back by an undeniably impressive display of the Force. The effect lasted only half the length of the four-meter long pool, leaving Obi-Wan comfortable in his immersion. Anakin seated himself primly two meters away from his Master before allowing the water to return to its natural level, splashing a little on Obi-Wan's beard.

Obi-Wan couldn't help it. He laughed, good mood restored. "You showoff."

"I learned from the best."

Obi-Wan blinked. "What?"

"When we got our tattoos, you didn't even wince."

"I was above it all, deep in the Force. It only took half an hour of discomfort, Anakin." Obi-Wan rubbed his left nipple, making the red flower furl its petals. "And I hate to throw a damper on things, but Siri will not be occupied the _entire_ afternoon."

"Can you sense her like you did me, before the imprinting, I mean?" _I can't sense Tru or Darra or even Ferus as individuals, but Obi-Wan __**is**__ a Master._

"We had no bond, you know that. Now it's different, and I sense she is looking for us. It's like, it's like hearing a far-off echo."

Anakin felt secure enough to make his move. "Then shall our flowers kiss or ... be in a row?"_ I've wanted to say that for the longest time, I've __**dreamed**__ of saying it._

Obi-Wan laughed again, charmed. "Let's let them kiss." He waved casually at the door and they both heard the _click!_ of its lock. The next thing he knew he was hauling Anakin to straddle his waist, cupping his ass, fingers at the cleft, pinkie and ring finger audaciously advancing and then retreating, time and again. Anakin arched backwards, grunting, his knees and part of his torso clearing the water as he braced himself with a hand on each knee of Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan sucked in a mouthful of water and squirted it at the notch of Anakin's clavicle. Anakin didn't feel it as he concentrated on Obi-Wan making his entrance.

_I need to control, yes, slowly down, allll the way, eh, some more ... there. _"Am I hurting you, Padawan?"

"N-Not at all."

"You're crying."

"Am not."

"I can wait. Breathe, pant like a -- "

"Missed you like _this, _that's all. Now let's make waves." Anakin controlled himself with Masterly finesse. It was Obi-Wan who dropped the scramball and came after six thrusts.

"Got to ... get used to ... this new power, I'm sorry, Anakin, next time ... I'll recite actuarial tables or ... Qui-Gon's first Padawan's middle names, something tedious ..."

"I may be able to help. Now you do what _I_ want. Stay right where you are." Anakin clenched as Obi-Wan tried to stay in place. Reaching down over Obi-Wan's shoulder, Anakin's mechno-arm wasn't long enough to reach his target, but it _was_ outfitted with a powerful untiring hand. Flexing fingers to palm and out again rapidly, Anakin directed a stream of warm water deliciously against Obi-Wan's entrance. He had the satisfaction of hearing Obi-Wan moan as Obi-Wan turned his head sideways against Anakin's pecs in order to breathe. Obi-Wan commenced to rub his ear over Anakin's undecorated nipple, fitting it inside the shell of his ear, rubbing it with a pinna that was stiffer than he was at the moment. It wasn't long until the nipple peaked enough to make Anakin catch his breath and whimper, but not enough to distract him from moving his hand. It took only minutes until Obi-Wan shuddered and stiffened respectably.

"Ohhhh, yessss ... mmmmmm ... like that, now let me help _you ... _" Obi-Wan didn't think he could come again, but that was secondary to furthering his Padawan's pleasure. He slid one hand down to Anakin's cock, firming it again until Anakin doubled up his legs to hook his knees over Obi-Wan's shoulders and leaned back, his braid fanning into the water. Anakin entered the realm that was ever new and renewing and came hard, his hands falling slackly from Obi-Wan's shoulders, _knowing_ that Obi-Wan would not let his head go under the water, which he didn't.

The med-droids kept watching as the two murmured meaningless phrases as they floated side by side, remembering Gitchy. Obi-Wan got dressed first, sighed and reactivated his comm. "Three messages. All right, Siri, we're on our way. This is where the fun begins." They held hands as they walked past the nurses' station, out of the hospital and towards the Corellian Star shuttle some wag had stenciled _Dubious Content_ on. _Probably a Corellian's idea of haw-haw humor._

Anakin admired the shuttle. "It's beautiful, but why so big for the two of you? Kind of obvious for an observation mission, isn't it?"

"It's all right. We're going to secure it somewhere safe and go extra-vehicular over to, to ... " _Kriff. He didn't need to know that this soon._

Anakin jerked his hand from Obi-Wan's. _"What!"_

"That's the plan thus far, Anakin. You'll have to trust in Siri's and my abilities. Now come with me." Obi-Wan ignored Anakin's mutterings as he led the way to the cockpit deliberately past the two turbolasers' emplacement. _See these, Padawan? We're not defenseless._

Siri glared at them. "Finally. What were you two up to?"

"Visiting someone we know. He's getting better." Obi-Wan hovered behind Siri's seat, familiarizing himself with the reality of the command panel as compared to his readings.

"Do I know him?"

"I'm not sure. Siri, Anakin's decided to visit his family on Tatooine."

Siri plugged in the coordinates, huffing. "I don't see why you didn't tell me about the visit. Why did you turn off your comm?" She fine-tuned the numbers to her liking. "It's ready. He can use the mini-orbital shuttle to debark. Padawan, this boat is in tiptop shape, but I don't suppose that will stop you from checking everything yourself." She grinned widely at him. Anakin found himself unable to grin back, but he did thaw a little past mere civility. He bowed and strode aft during their liftoff, vowing to eyeball every decimeter of the ninety-meter craft in the two hours they had left together. He opened himself to the Force and finished his inspection early, stopping in the galley to say goodbye to Obi-Wan. He willed himself not to get excited and relapse to his old stuttering habit. There was one basic thing he needed to say, and all the rest could wait until he saw Obi-Wan again.

"May The Force Be With You."

As Obi-Wan replied, "May The Force Be With Y-- ", Anakin lifted Obi-Wan and bent him backwards until he lost his balance. They dropped to the deck of the _Dubious Content _in a sighing embrace that Anakin never wanted to end. Obi-Wan laughed after he'd regained his breath. "Like you, I _don't_ want to wait until next time. But I have to and you have to. Siri's checking the pre-flight again now that you've fixed the fanistan -- "

"_Franistan_ something something valve. You've knocked the jargon out of my head and I _will_ not let your mission be delayed any longer." Anakin's braid lay in Obi-Wan's hand, neatly plaited and tied, not free like Obi-Wan liked most of all. Obi-Wan coiled it around his thumb.

"Soon this will be gone. The day is coming, I sense it."

"You'll lead me around by something else then."

"This, I assume."

"Ow! It's been a long time, be nice!"

"If I'd known before why I felt empowered, Anakin, I'd not waited, believe me -- "

Anakin pulled a face. "Healers have good news. Sometimes." _I'll wait. I've waited two years. I can wait some more, even if I go Sith with it. _He ran over the litany he'd composed during his angry prowl last night on Naboo and added what they had learned today to it. "Don't mod the swoops without checking the manual, wear earbuds for communication and call for backup if necessary. Let the Temple know they need to comm _me_ if anything goes wrong and don't get cocky just because your midichlorians are in my league -- "

" -- I won't, I will, I will, maybe I will and I would never. Greet Sabra and Beru and Owen for me, stay away from Gafsa Wells and go easy on the liquor." Obi-Wan nuzzled Anakin's scarred eyebrow. "Don't operate any speeder under the influence, I don't _care_ that there's not much traffic on Tatooine. There are still cliffs to run into."

Siri's boots clanked from far down the shuttle's main alleyway and they rose to their knees, robes entwined around them. They didn't talk for three minutes and when they were finished, Anakin hoisted his duffel and left for the aft flight deck without a backward glance. They each thought they knew the limits of imprinting and surmised that the distance between them would be too great to See the beacon that shone even when they closed their eyes.

Siri reached the hatchway to the galley one minute before and froze for a split-second. _Now I feel stupid. 'Sleeping together.' Luminara, why didn't you tell me? 'Lovers,' was that so hard to say? Especially to me, when you know my history. _Siri ducked out of the hatchway, waited a decent time after Anakin left, and clomped her way in to the galley. "Supplies all checked out?" she said to Obi-Wan's back. She heard the mini-shuttle depart.

"Three years' worth, check. Pre-flight?"

"Check. Anakin did a bang-up job on the valve, fitted new pyrowashers and everything. Not a drop coming now, just a slick spot where one was." She opened the cooling unit's freezer, plopping a few ice cubes into a handy mug suitable for hot or cold beverages. She poured a bubblezap over the ice and when the foaming had abated, fished out one icecube and handed it to Obi-Wan. "For your lips, Oafy."

Obi-Wan rubbed it over his swollen mouth once and then popped it onto his tongue. "Ready, willing and able for service, O-Siri."

"Then let's punch it."

* * *

Padme wasn't tired of Enri's slow flight patterns yet. Just being a passenger behind him in the Torpedo's second seat, she experienced more of Coruscant's many levels than ever before, though his endless curiosity about certain activities downlevel embarrassed her. The stately pleasure barge moving along at a glacier's pace on the lowest level was the worst. Shouts and whoops and flashes of bare skin of all hues and textures screamed from its windows to the galaxy of the high spirits contained inside. When Enri pulled alongside, retracting the Torpedo's bubble for a friendly wave at a beruffled male Zeltron who was particularly exuberant, she had to draw the line.

"Cousin, I'm the Vice-Chancellor. I can't be seen like this. We have the security screen on, but you're flying close enough for them to see my face -- "

Enri waved enthusiastically at the beckoning cerise Zeltron, even as he shook his head 'no'. He piloted with one knee while using his other hand to twiddle a dial on the control panel. Padme leaned over his shoulder as best she could to see.

"What are you doing?"

"Scrambling the shield's polarity. Nobody can see who you are now." Enri sped past the pleasure barge just as three human females and one close-enough to human jumped onto the wide lower step of the barge, ushered aboard by a liveried Phlog who handed them up into the half-lit interior. Enri closed the bubble and his windblown curls subsided down his back. Padme thought about loaning him one of her scarves for their next jaunt. _Wait. He programmed all that with one hand. How?_

"What did you do to the screen that nobody else has done?"

"Eh, it was a piece of sweesonberry cake. Won three aurodium medals at the Varykino Parish's Science Fair when I was knee-high to a shaak."

"That long ago, my. Were you a prodigy?"

"It was last year. We grow our shaaks big in Varykino Parish, Cousin." Padme's laugh pealed along with Enri's as they headed back home.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

"Unka Unka Unka! Unka Unka Unka! Un--"

"Sabra, honestly! Let Uncle Anakin debark first before you -- "

"It's fine, Beru." Anakin braced himself at the top of the ramp. "Let 'er rip." Sabra might be a toddler still, but she could run full tilt up the angle of the ramp. Anakin scooped her up. "Sabra, kissy?"

Sabra obliged. "Obwahn?"

"He's not here. He sends ... _this_." Anakin hoisted the little girl to straddle his neck and she grabbed his braid for balance. _Why did the Order come up with this hairstyle ... when __**I**__ am Grandmaster ... _Anakin suffered her to yank his plait, thankful that she was not teething as she had been at six months. The drool output had been horrendous. Her diaper crinkled against his skin and one sturdy boot drummed against his tattoo. _Ow._

"_Thaaaat's_ enough, Sabra. Come to Pa." Owen stretched out one meaty arm as Sabra shrieked and grabbed the back of his hand. He spread his hand atop her tawny hair, she braced herself and clung to his thick fingers, he lifted and she transferred to him, opening her legs wide before clamping them around his waist. Owen settled her against his hip and smiled. "Anakin, brother, welcome. It's been too long."

"Couldn't miss her second lifeday, could I?" Anakin said. He reached inside his cloak's inner pocket. "For you, sweetie." He pulled out a gaily-wrapped box the size of a holonet emitter, palm edition.

"Pwesent. Fank oo." Sabra accepted the gift and then turned shy, tucking her head against Owen's chest as she clutched the box. She didn't say anything else until they all were seated in the Lars' kitchen with herself sitting crosslegged in the middle of the dining table. By the smashed cake on the floor and dabbled frosting on the walls, Anakin assumed her party had not been over with for long. He draped a length of fine hair behind her ear.

"Go ahead. Open it."

"Yaybo!" Sabra wouldn't look at Anakin until he crossed his eyes and placed his braid on his upper lip like Obi-Wan's moustache. She giggled. "Unka Wahn." _Perfect. She made the connection. _For a split-second he pitied her, as she would never know the Force as he did. Then he saw Beru and Owen's content and figured that Tatooine's sandstorms blew in the faces of the Force-sensitive and the non-Force-sensitive alike and stopped that train of thought.

Sabra undid her present. "Oooo, shiny." The tiny droid uncurled like a droideka. A _benign_ droideka. It rolled, it twittered like a gibbit bird, it came to a dead stop. From a lens on its front sprang a hologram of Hologram Amusement World in miniature, displaying pink dewbacks on parade, a banner scrolling across their rough hides. They skipped along as Beru read aloud, "'Tickets for two days, one night at Koann Kondominiums. Meals included. Koann Kondominium World, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Hologram Amusement World, welcomes you. Claim your prize. No time-share presentation at entry. Tickets for: Owen Lars. Beru Lars. Sabra Lars. Anakin Skywalker.'" Beru's quietude fled. "Oh, Anakin. It's so generous of you. How did you get these tickets?"

Anakin kept his eyes on Sabra. "They were part of a benefit incentive I attended on Coruscant a while back. It was for a Jedi Children's Museum. These were given away to everyone there, whether they were parents or not. I'm glad you can use -- "

Owen broke in. "Pa wouldn't want us to take charity." Anakin saw Cliegg's gruffness in his son, not yet tempered with age's benevolence. _We Jedi are spoiled. We live like lordly Hutts in a clean Temple and haven't a clue about struggling for a livelihood. Even as a slave, Mom and I knew where our next meal was coming from._

Beru looked as if rounding on her husband happened once per wet season. "Owen. He can't use them, he'll never use them, and Sabra loves FlibbertiGibbit so. She'll get the biggest kick out of this -- "

"I don't want to cause any trouble, Owen -- "

Owen worked his jaw, his beard a thin fuzz compared to Obi-Wan's lush growth. He stared at Sabra, who was touching the toy droideka, then reaching through the pink dewbacks. Totally absorbed, she was unaware of being the center of attention. "All right. I won't fight you, Beru." The dewbacks' message faded, but they continued to skip, prancing through Sabra's clutching fingers.

Anakin poked Owen in the arm, feeling the brawn, a different kind than a Jedi's. Owen's was built by heavy lifting since childhood, but he would need help making this hard living after fifty. _Or maybe the Tuskens will raid again ... no._ Anakin shut down the image. Today was for rejoicing. "Start out tomorrow?"

Beru raised her eyebrows at Owen and they communed much as Anakin did with Obi-Wan. He could imagine hearing them, splintered thoughts and concerns of the day being dealt with. _Any promises to keep over the next few days? No. Caught up with work? As much as we ever are. Someone to look after the animals? The neighbors will. Enough funds to treat Anakin to a decent meal out when we're there?_ Playing across their faces were the thoughts of any couple wanting a small break from routine. Beru nodded to Anakin. "We thank you. Sabra thanks you."

Sabra looked up at the mention of her name. She scrambled for Beru's arms, sensing tension. Beru stood. "Come on, Anakin. Let's go visit your Mom and Cliegg." She led the way until just before the entrance to the burying ground, then allowed Anakin and Owen to step together onto the smoothed area between the two memorials. Cliegg's wasn't like Shmi's at all. Owen had molded three vaporator control plates to form a meter-high obelisk and engraved Cliegg's name and dates on its pewter-like surface. Anakin touched it curiously. _Six months ago. We were on Alliga then and I got the news two months late._ The suns were fierce, but Anakin didn't mind. There was no wind. That might come later in the day.

Anakin remembered the sandstorm that had divided his life in two: before and after Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon, who would perhaps laugh at the solemnity of this visit. "_You have Obi-Wan back where you want him. You have family to visit, a second lifeday to celebrate, for fuck's sake. You have a duffel with bottled joy in it. Why so glum, Ani?" _To Anakin, the imagined voice had the self-contained wisdom that sometimes came with age, the kind that had lost the ability to connect with a young one's passions and problems. It was the voice that Master Yoda did _not_ use.

Anakin replied to the absent Jinn, "I'm in a graveyard, standing over my mother's tomb. Why are _you_ so kriffing _happy?"_

_"It is in me and I __**must**__ share," _Qui-Gon answered. "_There is no other reason." _

In Anakin's mind's eye, the Master Jedi lost some remembered luster. _My grief for her was real. I killed for it._ It was said that the moisture farmers here feared the women Tuskens' custody of prisoners more than they did the men's. The women were skilled at meat butchering, flaying ... Anakin shivered. He did not want to revisit that awful night. The men may have deserved his judgment, the women also, but the children? No, no, no. Sabra's eyes were no more precious than the Tusken children's, clear and ungoggled as they were in the blasting midday heat. She reached down from Beru's grip, patting his head as he sank to his knees by Shmi's headstone. _Mom._

Nighttime brought a chill spring wind to Anakin as he retraced his steps alone to the burying ground. He clutched a poncho that Owen had loaned him, though his own Jedi robes were warmer. Somehow the signature Tatooine garment felt more in tune with this solitary visit. The moonslight glinted off Cliegg's marker, but Shmi's name was in shadow. Anakin settled against the stone. "To you, Mom," he said as he raised his Whyren's Lite high before guzzling half the bottle. _It smells like sour grain. It tastes bad._ He finished the bottle. Warmth spread from stomach to gut and back up to gullet. _Mom. You didn't know me as a man. We never knocked back a cold one after coming home from Watto's. My opinion of you has never changed. Would yours, of me?_

By the time Anakin had finished the final bottle, Owen's voice streamed across the sand. "Anakin! I'm shutting down the power now!"

"Be right there!" On unsteady feet, Anakin crunched through some hardpan before gliding once more in shifting sand. He used the Force to make whirlwinds all around him as he walked along. They ceased when he entered the compound. Owen took the two bottles from him and put them in a covered recycling bin filled with odds and ends. _Mostly odds._ Anakin opened the bin to see its sorting mechanism, but sealed it quickly when a powerful odor filled his nostrils. "Stang, Owen, that is the most putrid -- "

"It's the diapers. The bacteria takes a while to break everything down, you know. We don't have Coruscant magic out here."

"But does she normally -- "

"We're never feeding her that brand again, I can promise you." Owen met Anakin's eyes and laughed. "Brother, you're out on your feet. C'mon, time to rest. Sabra's way too squirmy to sleep with, so here's your bed." Owen guided Anakin to the kitchen and a plain cot of the sort that seemed galaxy-wide. Anakin felt right at home as Owen took back the borrowed poncho and pulled off Anakin's boots. "No, don't help. I can do it faster. I did the same thing as you after Pa passed on. It took me months to say goodbye." Owen pushed Anakin's head down on the pillow and covered him with one blanket and a quilt. "It's chilly. Get me up if you really can't take it. That Temple of yours probably has you spoiled, central heating and all." Anakin saw a twinkle in Owen's eye. "I came home late and toasted once or twice, a few years ago. Your Mom did this much for me."

"Did you call her 'Mom'?" Anakin hiccupped.

"Yes."

"Good. I know she liked that. She, she was the _best_ Mom, Owen -- "

"She was and she wouldn't like to see you crying. Sleep now. Hush." Owen turned off all power to the homestead except for the perimeter security net and felt his way to the door of the kitchen. "We want an early start."

Anakin turned on his side, pulling up the quilt to his chin. In the darkness, an embroidered design on the fluffiness brushed his fingers. An appliqued jewel intrigued him. "What _is_ this on here? It feels like something expensive. I don't feel right using this if it's an heirloom, Owen -- "_ I don't want to throw up on it. I don't know that I will, but I'm not used to drinking._

"You beat everything, you know that? Half lit and worrying ... It's Sabra's old pink FlibbertiGibbit bird quilt. That's his beak you're fiddling with. Leave it alone and get some rest. You're piloting tomorrow and you've got precious cargo." Owen's laugh was the last thing Anakin heard before succumbing to sleep.

_Meanwhile, in hyperspace ..._

_This is how Padme Skywalker felt when Anakin and I were together in the war. Duty first, then pleasure. This is waiting, cubed._ Obi-Wan kept up the chitchat with Siri with his upper brain while his lower replayed the scene in the hospital hydrotherapy room again and again. It would be something he could not share with Siri, though her experiences with Krayn's group had led her to a wider understanding of what the non-Jedi part of the galaxy took for granted as essential to life. Even now, with the Order going through some birth pangs as it processed its new Code slowly out to AgriCorps and its other service branches, Obi-Wan's and Siri's chaste upbringing made them reticent about many personal things. It was a breakthrough for her even to mention his kiss-swollen lips, as offhanded as she had been. He rubbed at his moustache while her attention was on their current position.

"Another half hour. Extra-vehicular suits checked? Speeder bikes?_ Fuel_ for speeder bikes?" Siri practiced her Force-bubble restraint of her medium-length hair idly. It was a weak exercise from her youth she hadn't paid much attention to as a Padawan, though Soara and Quinlan and Shylar made much of their wild locks' arrangement, shocking each other with new styles weekly. She played with an upsweep, a flip, a sleek chignon and finally decided on a simple pullback. It was the most she had ever indulged her fancies and she wondered if Obi-Wan's proximity influenced her primping. _Probably. Ferus, dearest boy, you were always complimentary and I needed that, but Obi-Wan is a peer. _Siri speculated on Ferus' whereabouts, secret mission or no. Tholme would know, she was certain, not that he would ever tell her. No, he'd keep a straight face and say, "Why are you asking?" and any hemming and hawing on her part would be put down to pure sentimentality. Which, of course, it wasn't. _Stay safe, Knight Olin, my first. Don't let those ideals of yours blind you to reality._

_She played making a Padawan braid in the midst of all that diddling around. She's thinking of Ferus. _"Siri, everything's checked. This ship is positively ready to be hidden away. Behind Olanet's umbra would be too noticeable, I'm thinking, and onplanet would be more favorable. Olanet has numerous wildernesses with few citizens in them. Might try there."

"I'm thinking of Tunroth Colonial Valley, in among the Grizzmallt nerfs. We could camouflage it."

"With what? This ship is ninety-meters of shininess. It may even be visible from space."

"With_ help _from my contacts among the Tunroth. There are a few favors they owe me. I was able to warn them of the Lortan threat." Siri looked at the starstream without blinking. "If they only take heed and arm themselves with energy weapons instead of those bows, they'll have a chance." She grimaced. "But tradition is strong with them and they probably won't. Eh, back to something I _can_ control." She raised her eyebrows to Obi-Wan. "I'm open to suggestions." _I don't know these particular Tunroth, but I'm certain I can deal with them. I __**will**__ deal with them._

_She __**is**__ a good partner. _"Very well. Tunroth Colonial Valley it is."

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

"Kaer Orbital Platform is free of the dwarf spider droids, Drakas reported." Obi-Wan said to Siri. It was getting less and less odd to him to view reports from Jedi killed in battle, their exhausted words coming from blue strained faces even as he remembered them from better times in Temple refectories or salles. He numbered Drakas among his slight acquaintances, someone he recalled as dropping his yellow lightsaber while sparring and laughing boisterously at himself. A Twi'lek whose sense of humor had fled during the war, because the somber face that Obi-Wan turned into a blue frazzle with the off button held only the fatigue all Jedi felt at the end of a long campaign. Obi-Wan sighed and used his portentous voice to lighten the mood. "_Or_ ... so he _said._"

It failed to get a smile out of Siri. "Another droid factory. Maybe there is something different about this one, something other than Olanet's, which was large with no distinguishing features whatsoever." _Except for the sonic screamers. And the droids' faster than normal retreat. Mmmm._

"Ready to debark? Here come the Tunroths." The Tunroths approached the shuttle like the hunters they were, surrounding it, weapons held steadily in brawny arms. The nostrils atop their broad heads fluttered as if to scent whoever was inside and their occasional grunts and snarls were amplified by the external microphone that Siri tapped into use. She paused, filling herself with confidence, _knowing_ she could get their cooperation. _The Assemblage of Three will deal with us. That's them._ Three Tunroth advanced from the loose grouping. Their sacred klirun bows held one deadly caros arrow each, tipped no doubt with the drug known as talar. Siri and Obi-Wan could become live captives quickly if she did not defuse the situation. She had to gain their trust. She switched the microphone to 'output' as she projected their images in front of the Tunroth through an outboard holoemitter used in situations similar to this. _Guarded negotiations._ Siri cleared her throat.

"Aaaarghhuh. Uhhhhggggnjedimrrrrowwwllll. _Hhhhhurrrmmmmmgl._ Lllooorft?" _I'll feel this in my vocal cords for hours. _

The gnarled Assemblage of Three conferred among themselves. Then the most stooped of the three stepped forward. "I am Eldest. I alone speak Basic. Come on down to us." She knew where the ramp was and waited until Obi-Wan and Siri stood beside her. "You speak to us in our tongue, Jedi."

Siri spread her hand to her, third and fourth fingers split. After a moment, Eldest placed her left hand's second thumb on Siri's pinkie, her first thumb on Siri's own, the remaining middle fin-like finger resting in the notch formed by Siri's split grip. The Tunroth's hand dwarfed Siri's as the two regarded each other. Then Eldest smiled and Siri relaxed. "We visit your peaceful colony, Eldest, but we will leave it to take our place in the war outside. We need a favor and we -- _I --_ will buy it from you."

Obi-Wan started. _Buy? What with?_ He knew the Tunroth were hunters, having a way of life that glorified the hunt to a spiritual level. Whatever form of payment Siri could offer would not be trinkets or credits, not that they had many onboard.

"Tell me the favor first, Jedi." Eldest placed her recurved weapon on her bowed back and the rest of her group did likewise. Obi-Wan instinctively moved back-to-back with Siri as the tall grasses parted and even more Tunroth walked unhurriedly towards them until sixty hunters surrounded them. Eldest made a noise through her slitted nostrils atop her occiput that might have been a laugh. "You smell peaceful. Don't be afraid." Obi-Wan had taken a sonic shower that morning and wondered what Eldest meant by that remark. _Siri has made first contact well. I'll let her do the talking._

Siri took a deep breath, squeezed her hands into tight fists pressed together and made the ritual knock to her forehead. "We plead to conceal our craft from Separatist hunters. My partner and I will return as soon as we can to this place, this _blind,_ if you allow the favor. He and I will use our smaller and stealthier craft to creep close to our quarry unnoticed."_ They don't need to know about our extra-vehicular activity. I don't remember how planet-bound they are, exactly. We might seem even more foreign if they realize we'll be in space without a spaceship._

Eldest surveyed their craft, shining in the afternoon sun. "It will be a great deal of work, but a large enough herd of nerfs may camouflage your vehicle."

Siri snorted. "Well, _regular_ nerfs, yes, but you have Grizmallt nerfs, now don't you? Not much hair on them to hide -- "

_Siri, don't insult their choice of breeding stock! That's an insult to any rancher on any planet!_ Obi-Wan bowed deeply to Eldest. "What my partner means to say, Eldest, is that whatever help you can offer, we'll accept. I don't know much about nerfs, but would their mere herd movements not camouflage any survey from probe droids or scanning from a spacecraft? Hide a solid outline of a structure by blurring it, so to speak?"_ And if the enemy becomes suspicious enough to send in organics, then nothing will have worked anyway._

Siri was able to put aside her ego the moment it became an obstacle to completing a mission. "Their milling and jumping and their antlers' bobbing, yes, Obi-Wan. Good point." Siri nodded at him and then at Eldest. "Your price for this favor, Eldest?"

"_Should_ I grant it, it will involve nerfs. They will be driven here to _that_ "-- she jerked her chipped chin-horns at a log corral perhaps a half-kilometer away -- "for their evening grain supplement." Eldest gestured to her snaggle-toothed maw and made her almost-laugh sound again. "Grain is about all I can handle myself in these later years of mine." She straightened as much as she could. "Come to the corral when the sun touches the top of the farthest hill and be prepared to buy your favor. We of Tunroth Colonial Valley will be there, Jedi." Eldest snarled at her patient hunters and all moved in the direction of the corral. Eldest paused enough to say over her bent shoulder, "Lose the cloak. And the lightsaber."

Siri handed her lightsaber to Obi-Wan, offering the usual Jedi protocol. "Obi-Wan, I give you permission to touch my lightsaber." He clipped it to his belt as she shucked her cloak, rolled it into a ball and tossed it by the ramp. "Come on, let's go."

"Right now? Don't you want to research what this 'price' might entail?"

She was already three steps ahead of him, following the Tunroths' long strides. "It will involve nerfs, Obi-Wan, shearing them, butchering them, herding them, milking them, I don't know what. And I don't need to know whatever else it may be. I'm ready for anything." Obi-Wan followed more slowly. _She's like Anakin. Stars help us._

At more or less the time Eldest had indicated, three hundred nerfs of the Grizmallt variety bleated and trod the dirt of the corral to puffs of dust. They looked hungry and slightly ridiculous to Obi-Wan, because his idea of a nerf involved fluffy wool and a placid personality. These nerfs had little tufts of hair on the end of a short tail and another bit on a small hump at the withers, leaving the rest of their rangy bodies covered in a short slick coat of straight hair. They sported sharp split hooves and sharper-looking antlers. Occasionally they butted each other and as the afternoon lengthened into evening and they did not get their accustomed grain, their tempers worsened. He could not imagine what Siri was supposed to do with one. The entire scene reminded him of his term of employment as Qui-Gon's young spy when he had just turned into his teenhood. Working as a butcher to eviscerate enormous animals, drenched in gore day after day, he completed his mission successfully but the memory of that week revolted him. _There's not much to shear, so I guess it will be subduing one and turning it into nerf chops. Ugh._

_They're between one and two meters tall. They can't be too much to handle._ From her perch beside Obi-Wan on the corral's splintery top rail, she challenged Eldest, whose physical limitations kept her on the ground. "Eldest, a fair hunt for a novice like me needs daylight. It's going fast. What would you have me do?"

"See that one, the one with the bell around its neck? That's Sweetbud, my counterpart in age and decrepitude in this herd. I want you to ride her over to me. That is the price." Eldest no longer held her bow, but nevertheless exuded power of a weathered, implacable sort. She poked Siri's behind with one large hand and Siri jumped down into the corral.

"I'll do it. Stay here by this knothole." Obi-Wan just knew that there was more to Sweetbud than met the eye, because as Siri approached the graying beast, Sweetbud managed to sidle inside a small group of bleating nerfs, always keeping them between herself and the approaching Jedi. When Siri grew impatient and used the Force to nudge the antlered barrier aside, Sweetbud bounded like a youngling to the farther side of the corral, jumping on the backs of the herd that she led to and from grazing grounds. She turned a baleful eye on Siri from next to the single gate. "I don't have time for this," Siri muttered and Force-leaped to the creature's side. Sweetbud lowered her antlers and pawed the ground.

"Not going easy, eh?" Siri concentrated and Sweetbud's eyes bulged as she strained to get away, but Siri had the upper hand. Sweetbud managed to give her bell a tiny shake before she stilled completely. Siri mounted the bony back, grimacing, and held onto the tufted hump with one hand and a worn antler with the other. _"Forward."_ Sweetbud's stubbornness was strong for a nonsentient, though at last the suggestion took hold and she advanced through the herd that Siri kicked a path through, Sweetbud's hooves tromping step by trembling step to where Eldest waited. When a quivering nose poked through the knothole and Eldest scratched it, Siri looked up at Obi-Wan's broad smile. "Not a word," she said. She knew she looked comical with her wild hair and her legs held far forward to avoid dragging on the ground.

Eldest gave Sweetbud a dismissive pat and Siri took the hint. She clambered away from Sweetbud as she released her hold for the dismount, pressing a dirty hand to her back that popped a little with the strain. Sweetbud jabbed at Siri with a sideways butt and then trotted back to her minions, head held high, pride restored.An hour later, the entire herd bedded itself down by the Corellian Star shuttle and some adventurous nerfs jumped to the top of the craft, their hooves skittering on the slickness as their natural agility allowed them to mount the highest peak of shiny metal. When they had settled down for the night, not a sharp edge of the ship's outline could be seen. Grunting and farting nerfs ruminated next to and atop the shuttle's metallic splendor. By the next day, the shine and shape would be camouflaged by movement. "And by other, nastier things," thought Obi-Wan as he straddled his speeder bike and adjusted its fuel valve. The second mini-shuttle would have just enough room for the swoops -- _no, speeder bikes -- _and the two Jedi. Siri finished the ritual farewell mutual shoving contest with Eldest and joined him. "They're all right with keeping the herd close to the ship. And I was all right, too."

"Fair is fair, Siri. You did well to think of this, because I had only one idea and that was for securing our mini-shuttle to the Orbital Platform's communications array before we go extra-vehicular into the platform itself." He indicated her speeder bike. "I adjusted the fuel for you. I knew you'd be sore."

Siri rubbed her backside. "So true, so true." She gave a cheerful grin in Eldest's direction and waved. "The old battlenerf. 'Price' indeed. I'll feel this tomorrow, too."

"I'd be willing to do a Force laying on of hands, Siri -- "

"Nope, not unless it gets unbearable. Which it won't. I'll tend to it myself, some Force massage while we're in flight ... um, never mind. Ready?"

"Up to the array and then out." Obi-Wan and Siri turned their speeder bikes on low and trundled them into the hatch. They did a triple check of the vac suits hanging inside and took off for their mission of investigation of an orbital platform that should have no organic energy signatures coming from it, but did.

_Meanwhile, back on Serenno ..._

"Our facility is successful in starting the seed crystals, Milord Dooku. The end product will be more quickly grown than any clone, and will have the advantage of being tied to your Force signature, should you so wish it." If Grievous could have hyperventilated, he would have done so as Dooku's dark gaze filtered through to him across parsecs of dead space. The blue image of the Kaleesh wavered even more than usual. _This is your test, DisCount Dooku. I hope you studied for it_.

Seated before his comm station and awaiting another intriguing exclusive _JediNow _auction announcement, Dooku stroked his short beard. "This was not mentioned before." _Grievous is thinking for himself about the Force. This could be dangerous. _"And this would be to our advantage, why?"

Grievous dilated his pupils to roundness behind his mask to convey candor. He doubted that Dooku could see it, but still ... "Your presence is the heart and soul of the Separatist movement, Milord. In the unlikely event of your incapacity" -- _or death_ -- "the crystal armies would come to a complete halt. The cause that we both support would be null. The cessation of our noble efforts would be" -- _dramatic pause -- "symbolic_ of a grand cause that the galaxy was not ready for, was _unworthy_ to accept." _Show me you can think beyond yourself. Show me that you approach the foresight of Milord Sidious. Pass this test and I'll continue working for and with you. Fail, and we'll see if four lightsabers can whittle away one, even if it is wielded by a Dark Lord._

_Tempting. _Dooku found the entire idea romantic and un-Jedi-like and it appealed to his sense of self-gratification. If he were tied to the droids in the Force, his death or removal from the war scene through mishap would collapse the Separatists' forces. Leaders like Gunray and Shu Mai and the rest would scramble for supremacy, their mercenaries would default to the highest bidder and the Separatist dream of seceding from the Republic would fail. His own dream of a Sith army would fail. He considered the fact that he would not be around to see any of it. Why should it matter to him?

_You're wavering. A little nudge, then ... "_Milord? Is the transmission defective, your staff _has_ been negligent before -- "

"This takes some thought, Grievous. You don't know the Force, you wouldn't comprehend me. _Wait." Presumptuous __**thing. **_Dooku considered the failure of all his ideals, his dearly held dreams of a Sith army enforcing them, an entire galaxy filled with beauty that would meet only his standards. Then he remembered Sidious, whose concealed scheme of Skywalker's puling self serving the Sith in some capacity as Chosen One Dooku had given some thought to in the two years since Sidious' demise. The planning that his Master had done had ignored Sidious' own fate in the greater interest of the Sith. Could he not do the same, _should _he not attempt to do _better_ as an aristocrat than had a mere member of the bourgeoisie like Palpatine? Yes. He would choose to serve the greater evil.

"You may not tie me in any way to these creations of yours. I forbid it."

_He passed the test. Remarkable._ "By your command, Milord."

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

"Duranet makes me itch." Siri stood back to back with Obi-Wan in the small space behind the pilot and passenger chairs. She glanced away from the reflective surface of the viewport which showed Obi-Wan adjusting small pads of plastifoam in the concavities of his body. The crotch area had always proved problematical to ensuring that the duranet's elasticity slid smoothly over skin. Even though the suits had been tailored to each of their figures, the foam was necessary to allow freedom of movement while wearing the duranet body stocking as well as to prevent bodily fluids such as sweat pooling in any gaps. The pads made anyone, even a Jedi, crankier than a rancor with laryngitis. _Bodily fluids, hmmm. Took care of business before getting into this suit, but -- _"Any idea of how long this will take?"

Obi-Wan prodded the last bit of foam around his cock and balls, cradling them in a form-fitting protector that had been pre-cut to his measurements. It would not slip unless he had to make running movements, which he was sure he would not need to do in space. _Or unless I become aroused, and if I do, my poor excitement will be strangled in this suit._ He slid the heavy bodystocking over his hips from where it had been tugged up to mid-thigh. The effort of donning the five layers of a mechanical counterpressure vac suit was considerable and he broke into a light sweat. The suit squeezed his waist, then his torso and as he pulled it over one arm he recalled that the suit's design used his perspiration to keep his body cool inside the suit's confines. Little grunts and small curses came from behind him as Siri fitted the foam into her own concavities. _Good thing she broke down and let me apply Force-healing. A sore bottom would be a distraction any Jedi wouldn't need on an extra-vehicular mission. _"My record for space walks is seven hours. How about yours?"

"Nine." Siri fanned herself after sliding one hand through a clinging sleeve._ Layer number five, done._ "I know it's too far to use umbilicals, Obi-Wan, but these skintight suits are a bastard to put on." She stole a glance to make sure it was modestly safe to turn around. It was. "Here, you've got a ripple across the shoulders." She put both hands in the middle of her partner's back and spread the bubble upwards. The escaping air burped as it cooled her sweaty palms. "Ahhhhh ... "

"Siri!"

"Relax, it was just air." There was a more innocuous sound, a _ping, _that caught her attention.

"Nevertheless -- "

"Oafy, look at the sensor!" Both Jedi leaned over the red panel. A tiny green dot signifying 'organic' circumnavigated a large device that read 'unknown function.' They looked at each other.

Obi-Wan doublechecked the sizing graph on the screen, wishing their craft had holographic capabilities like the Corellian mother ship. "It's small, it's mobile. There should be nothing here. Drakas was positive."_ But he appeared exhausted in his report. And he's in the Force now, so I can't comm him about it. _Obi-Wan discounted all the incidents he had heard of in various cultures about an afterlife reaching out to the living. That time on Zonama Sekot didn't count. "The dwarf spider droids, even the larger OG-9 homing spider droids have things like infrared receptors and scanners, but not anything with fluidic drives that could possibly be read as alive." He tapped the focus, but the green dot grew no bigger. "It's at its largest view now."

"The creature must be _tiny,_ no bigger than a hoojib. What species could be here? If it's a mynock colony, they are behaving awfully strange." Siri scratched the neckline of her suit. "Ahhh, kriff, the itching will drive me into the Force yet. Come on, finish suiting up and we'll investigate and then get out of this torture." She smoothed her hair back with a Force-bubble, barely concentrating on its shape, affixed the helmet's seal and checked her speeder bike for the final time. Obi-Wan cycled the airlock to open five minutes later, put on his own helmet, boots and gloves and snugged down anything that might float away in the depressurized cabin. The mini-shuttle was too small for its own segregated airlock, so everything would be open to space. With their duffels under the pilot chairs, their earbuds in place and speederbikes ready for action, he finger-signaled 'three, two, one, go' as space rushed in. Jetting their bikes in little bursts to clear the small shuttle, it was a relief to gain the freedom of space. _My mods won't help us in zero atmosphere. I'll keep them anyway. _The communications array orbited the station in ponderous majesty with the mini-shuttle anchored to it as their speederbikes took them efficiently to the platform's two thousand meter-length of wasted usefulness. They found a docking pier. A simple metal cable -- no magnetization for fear of alerting any sensor on the intruder's end -- secured the speederbikes and then they were off, bounding, putt-putting with their suits' small jets, maneuvering in techniques they had learned as Padawans. From the identical readouts on their portable scanners, they closed in on the alarming presence. Obi-Wan checked his free-floating lightsaber's clip and Siri did the same.

Years of experience at these things as well as their readouts led them to an obviously important enormous room where carcases of spider droids and a few dessicated mynock bodies floated ominously, trapped by inertia in the platform's nonexistent gravity field. An unsteady light emanated from an upright clear cylinder perhaps fifty meters tall and plunging an unknown length beneath the floor of the platform. The cylinder pulsed with lambent green-gray like a stormy sea thrashing under an occasional lightning bolt, though the lightning was muted and more underwhelming than overwhelming as were the storms of Kamino. Obi-Wan heard Siri's lips part in surprise without seeing them through her helmet, a _pop_ sound that his earbud picked up easily. As they settled behind a pillar opposite the very top of the cylinder, Obi-Wan saw that it used to support part of the broken roof that was now a patchwork of tiles and melted beams. The cylinder held all their attention in its continuous activity.

"Spaarti cylinder. The Khommite cloners use them." Siri's voice brushed his ears, sounding distorted inside his helmet.

_Cloners. Shades of Kamino._ The Khommites used radiation to clone, not nutrient fluids that the Kaminoans' technology employed. Radiation produced a faster rate of growth by ten-to-one, though the Khommites were close-mouthed about their rate of failure. "Where are the decanting units?" Obi-Wan whispered, though he didn't have to. "And how about the incubators?"

Siri edged around her side of the pillar, reaching out with the Force. "I've been around undecanted clones, you've been around undecanted clones. Do you sense anything like what we sensed before?"

Obi-Wan concentrated. "No. Usually it's an unfocused sense of life, like a rotifer's perception of its environment. And there is no fluid anywhere on the platform." He peered around the opposite side of the pillar and froze. A leggy thing moved around the cylinder. A uncloaked leggy thing, not like the last time he had seen it. _"Grievous."_

_What could the military leader of all the Separatist forces be doing here? Is he cloning himself so that he can be on more than one battlefront at a time? But you don't clone durasteel and there is so little of his flesh left ... _"Obi-Wan, his internal organs and brain are what the sensors picked up. All told, they don't mass more than a hoojib would."

"Right you are. Look, something's happening." Grievous paced, his claws gripping the deck of the platform with ease, all four arms waving in what an organic would call agitation, whether in happiness or anger. The cyborg stopped circling the cylinder. He reached into a niche on the outside of the cylinder, cradling a small round metal device resembling a caf-dispenser that had heretofore been concealed from their view. It had been as close to the radiation stream as possible without actually floating inside it. The stream of invisible particles shot straight to the reflective canopy covering the cylinder, Obi-Wan knew, and then drove their way back to the origin point. Back and forth they would travel, contained by the cylinder, until the shields would cover the entire tube at shutdown. _We can't take him. We need backup._

_If we could take him, we could end this war right now. _Siri rechecked her lightsaber clip and calculated the trajectory and force she would need to propel herself to the cyborg.

Obi-Wan _knew_ what was going through her mind, because it was horribly similar to what would go through his Padawan's. "Siri."

"You go in on the left, me on the right."

"Siri."

"All right, I'll take the left."

"Siri, no."

_He's not the boy I knew who found a cause bigger than the Order and joined it. No matter that it turned sour. _"You and I together can do this, Obi-Wan."

"You didn't debrief the Jedi survivors of Hypori. I did." _And Fordo's hair turned white. _"If we could find out what is in that container, though -- "

"It's his spare hearts or something. _I want him." _Siri's normally forthright way of speaking became a hiss in his earbud. Obi-Wan caught her arm in a gentle hold, mindful of puncturing her suit.

_Meanwhile, orbiting Hologram Fun World ... _

"It's a space station. I thought it was a planet, Owen." Beru's eyes never left the Hologram Fun World glittering at the bottom rim of the mini-shuttle's viewport. "The advertisements on the HoloNet say 'world.' It's supposed to _be_ a world, a _planet._" _Something solid. _Beru handed Sabra to Anakin. Sabra accepted the transfer and if she had been dangled upside down before the maw of a slavering Hutt, she wouldn't have cared. FlibbertiGibbit bird was down there on the shiny thing. It was going to be a good day.

"Beru, I don't like travel either." Owen turned away from Anakin, who jiggled Sabra up and down and tried not to listen. "It's a break and we both need one. Sabra is looking for us to be good examples." He smoothed her braids. "Come on, be brave for her sake."

"There are reasons I don't enjoy travel. It means I get to be cooped up in spacecraft, looking at the hyperspace lines made me sick, how do I know the food will agree with us and as for the Koann Kondiminiums, they had better be comfortable, that's all I can say." Beru crossed her arms. "I usually agree with what you want -- "

Owen put his arm around her stiff shoulders. "For Sabra's sake?"

"Mmmmmm." Beru whispered in his left ear.

"If it's private enough, sure." Owen grinned. "The Joy Dome sounded interesting in the advertisement."

Anakin wanted to be a stable rock for his relatives. "The Kondominium representative said each unit was soundproofed because of all the younglings. I'm sure that means _any_ sorts of noises will be inaudible."

Beru blushed as she took back Sabra. "That isn't very reassuring." She hugged her child, who was straining to leave the embrace and fly through the viewport to the shimmering wonderment below. "All right then, let's go say hello to FlibbertiGibbit bird." Sabra gave her loudest baby-squeal that she would not outgrow for some years and which would return with adolescent girlhood giggles. Beru clapped her free hand over her ear and winced. _The things I do for you, daughter._

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

Grievous cycled one precious crystal cluster into the canister's set-in examination chamber near its handle. The crystals had grown from invisible seeds to a clump of icy asymmetrical facets, similar to the kind of candy grown on a string dipped into a sweet solution. The lattice was beautiful in its larval state, but were its form a fully-operational crystal droid with fluidly-moving arms and legs and a functioning intellect, it would be _perfect._ _And since imperfections are created due to gravity, this could very well be the starter batch of my CrystalDroid 1.2. _Version 1.1 had contained a few flaws, not that he had informed Dooku of that. Had this mix been one of his own many children that he could no longer remember, he could not have been more proud of his creation. The invigorating Spaarti cloning radiation had surpassed all his expectations and the crystal army would be reality sooner than he had thought. He was pleased for his cause, he was pleased for Dooku's rising to near Milord Sidious' level of devotion to the cause, and he was pleased his calculations for the crystals had worked out. He numbered among his other pleasures on this solitary research expedition the fact that he could gloat over his lightsaber collection in peace. His metallic elbow missed brushing the lightsaber collection inside his cloak, said cloak and lightsabers stowed aboard his transport shuttle tethered some two hundred meters away. In his mind's eye, he fondled each hilt and if they had retained a bloodstain from a Jedi's death, so much the better. He would never clean his collection. Cleaning debased the value of any cherished trophy; in that, he was in complete agreement with Dooku. He wrenched his thoughts from Sith Lords past and present as he clicked a switch on the cylinder's control panel. If the crystal withstood planet-norm gravity without fracturing, the test would be a resounding success.

_Grievous activated the residual lights on the platform so he could see to work, but not the gravity because he doesn't need it. He definitely has the advantage here. Could Obi-Wan be right? _Obi-Wan loosened his grip on Siri's arm. As their bubble-headed helmets touched, he saw that a Jedi Master's restraint looked like sea ice, a rigid cold surface underneath which surged waves of emotion. His face did not look the same; he thought it might soon. He would try reason first.

"Siri, if we could find out what he guards, we could have a leg up on knowing his plans. Dooku could lead the troops if Grievous is taken out now, but knowing their plans, Siri, could allow us to subdue their whole army." _To get someone's attention, use their name more than once. Negotiating Basics 101._

"Cloning, something to do with cloning," Siri mumbled to herself and then rounded on him. She bounced farther from him, not angry, not pleased, but reasoning. "Cloning himself, cloning Dooku, this _could_ be devastation for our side, Obi-Wan. All that we've worked and bled for in nearly three years could be abrogated by him getting away today. That's worth the risk."

_Stars, there must be a compromise, give me a compromise_. "He'll run like he always does if he knows there are two Jedi about to get him. We show ourselves and make our target his _getaway _ship. Strand him here."

Siri slowly pulled her arm from Obi-Wan's grasp, bracing a hand on the pillar to keep her bobbing body hidden behind it. Obi-Wan's expression was one of earnest debate. She opened her mouth to agree with his assessment of the risk when, fifty meters below, Grievous activated the gravity. Siri and Obi-Wan fully-powered their maneuvering jets to stop their fall, but the jets were not meant to move so much mass in full gravity. The two Jedi fell to the platform deck only a little slower than the mynock bodies and three deactivated dwarf spider droids. Had there been atmosphere, the Jedi's clattering drop would have alerted Grievous, but as it was, an unerring lightning flash from the Spaarti cylinder reflected from Obi-Wan's descending helmet to Grievous' amber eyes.

_It can only be Jedi scum. Black Sun wouldn't __**dare.**_Two members of the despised Order that used beautiful weaponry appeared at the base of a pillar twenty meters away on guard stance only, waiting to defend or to attack when his defenses were down. Grievous yearned to acquire the lightsabers glinting to life in their hands. _I could take them. I know I could._ But the knowledge about the Spaarti cylinder's spurring the crystals' development could not end with him. _There are other Spaarti cylinders in the galaxy. And I need a diversion to make my getaway. _The panel's red button he pushed without a second thought before running for the corridor that led to his transport, the canister tenderly cradled in his left arms.

Siri blistered Obi-Wan's earbud with her curses. She ran awkwardly in her cumbersome suit after so long a time without gravity, but she could _not_ accept defeat. She scurried after Grievous, leaving Obi-Wan to ascertain the meaning of the blinking red button. Without a doubt, capturing or killing Grievous was _her_ job.

Obi-Wan paled inside his helmet as the shields surrounding the cylinder cycled to nothing, one by one. The red button signaled 'autoshutdown' in Basic while the panel's failsafes, in their shorting-out confusion, sensed that there was no atmosphere. Like any self-respecting circuit would, the failsafes initialized the atmospherization procedures installed by their programmers. Forcefield emitters that were whole spread themselves thin covering for damaged emitters. As their efforts sealed the gaping roof and floor holes with frazzling blue rays, from somewhere beneath the floor an airpump moaned to life to force atmosphere into the sealed area. Obi-Wan would have felt relieved to be in atmosphere once more, were it not for the continued peeling away of the Spaarti cylinder's shields. With the Force, he clamped a stray bit of metal debris onto a spidering crack near the base of the cylinder. He directed the Force-push to meld the debris into the disintegrating structure of the cylinder, but it was slow going. Obi-Wan removed his fogged-over helmet one-handedly and took a deep breath of recycled air that seemed fresher than that in his suit. Flicking back sweaty hair, he pointed his right arm straight at the patch, daring it to fail. He had a bad feeling about the entire situation.

Siri redoubled her efforts in the chase, shocked when Grievous used his right arms and bowed legs to scramble away from her like a Berbersian crab. She Force-leaped in between him and the exit he was trying to reach. They faced off. _Helmet steaming up. Must be the rapid change in temperature. _She rolled her helmet to the side. The airpump had activated the heating system also, preparing the Kaer Orbital Platform for occupants who would soon be irradiated with unknown amounts of mutating particles. Siri smiled at the irony. "Give up."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. But I had to say it." Siri blocked her stance into Form I, Shii-Cho, the Way of the Sarlacc. _He's got no weapon that I can see. He's got claws on both feet and those weird right hands. He also could throw the canister at me. It's like a situation with multiple opponents. And Shii-Cho is simple and strong. _In her rare introspective moments, Siri thought of herself as simple and strong. She could not have known that Dooku taught Grievous Shii-Cho as his first Form to master.

_I've recently taught Shii-Cho to my IG-100 MagnaGuards. She's mine. _Grievous remained in his quadrupedal form, staring past Siri at Obi-Wan, whose back was to them both. Grievous noted the slight lapse in Siri's concentration as she followed his gaze and she could not hide her concern for her partner from him. Fearful bits of meat, thought Grievous, and with a smile in his slitted eyes he twirled the nearest deactivated dwarf spider droid into deadly motion towards the bearded Jedi. Rolling its razor-sharp legs at their unknowing target, it became a pinwheel of cutting edges. Obi-Wan was busy with the Force, bastioning the cracking cylinder's patch. Siri's concentration switched back to Grievous' actions, however, and as the spinning clawed star sped past her to its intended target, she screamed, "Heads up, partner!", Force-pushed its trajectory aside and leaped for the Kaleesh.

Grievous anchored himself even more firmly with his gripping feet, grabbed the cylinder tighter in both his left arms, and decided that discretion was the better part of valor against _two_ Jedi. With a sustained snarl that even Obi-Wan heard, he kicked at her and connected with one taloned leg. There was a five meter-wide gap in the damaged flooring behind her and she fell into the forcefield shielding it from space, clenching her left arm to her side. Before she succumbed to wracking muscle spasms, she swung her lightsaber viciously at the prized canister. Leaping back to avoid the blow, Grievous fumbled the canister and dropped it. The viewport to the examination chamber sprang open and the sample crystal fell out, but the lock to the main portion of the crystals held firm. No more crystals left their creche._ These are like leaven; I don't need every single one to start the rest of my batch of droids. _Grievous scuttled for his transport without delay.

_Did he rupture my suit did he did he ... no. _A more violent muscle spasm that all the others cartwheeled her free of the field. With a deep moan, she assessed her damage before rising. _Arm out of its socket. I can fix that ... _"Ayeeeeee_ugh!"_ _This blasted tight suit will keep it well-supported, anyway._ She picked up her helmet and headed slowly for Obi-Wan at his staunch position. He didn't turn around at her approach.

"Grievous?"

"Got away. What's the damage?" Now that the heat had kicked in, it didn't know when to stop and the temperature was balmy enough for a day at the beach. A _humid_ day at the beach.

"I can't reverse the autoshutdown and I estimate we have twenty minutes before this patch fails. Simply destroying this panel won't work because the circuits' commands are coming from the main computer."

Siri rubbed her arm and tried to get feeling back in her fingers. "Where is it? Maybe I can do something." She looked around for a sign saying 'Main Computer Console' until the room swayed._ Or maybe it's me._ She sat down and put her head between her knees.

"You're not going anywhere. _We_ are getting out of here fast. Siri, don't faint now." _I can't tend to her __**and**__ keep reinforcing this patch ... or can I? _He found his center and from an untested source of strength, held the patch firm while reaching down to the top of Siri's head. He eased her incipient syncope away, firming her residual tremors at the same time. _Darling Anakin, the things you are capable of and now I am capable of, it's astounding. _Siri fluttered her eyelashes and stood.

"'M better now. Wait, there's something I want before we leave." Siri strode back to the gap in the floor, skirting the forcefield with great care. In its coruscating blueness, a blob of crystal glittered on the deck. She sensed no danger from touching it and put it in her belt's pocket, next to her lightsaber.

_This situation can't get any worse._ A klaxon sounded. The blinking red light stopped blinking and glowed steadily. _It's worse._ "Siri, hurry up! Grievous may have done something as he left! We need to leave _now_!" Siri trotted back to Obi-Wan's side.

"Our speeder bikes are that way and **what have you done to your suit?" **_I deflected the spider droid. I know I did._

_"Kriff!"_ Over his lower torso, there was a fifteen-centimeter tear in the outermost layer of five in the vac suit, a smaller one in the fourth layer, and tinier ones in the third and second. Obi-Wan heaved a breath. "I heard your warning and sidestepped, but it seems the claws got me after all." He shrugged. "I was concentrating. Still got one unbreached layer, though. Come on, let's go. I'll -- "

The klaxon doubled its oscillations. Before they could secure their helmets, Siri and Obi-Wan stared in horror at the cracks splintering the cylinder's walls. Helmets in hand, they pelted for the nearest exit, the crack in the floor that now had lost its shielding. The outrush of warm humid air pushed them even faster towards the hole and as they tried to jump through it to the next level, Siri shrieked, "Use the Force to protect your suit from tearing any further! I'll shield us!" She clapped on her helmet as Obi-Wan donned his. Siri backed into him, jockeying their positions until they each canted their heads to the side to allow the helmets room to be side by side. Their differing heights didn't matter any more because the gravity cut out again. Their legs bent and it was as if Siri were sitting on her partner's lap in freefall.

Obi-Wan hadn't pressed a fellow Jedi this closely since he and Anakin had last had sex -- regularly, at least -- two years ago. _Two__** years**__? _Siri had a dip in her waist -- _she has Anakin's bright eyes _-- and they were turning face-to-face now in the moments before their possible deaths and they couldn't speak, they had no bond whatsoever to sense each other, yet many years ago he had imagined this intimate position. Or something like this, with someone female, at least.

_Spaarti cloning cylinder radiation, never thought the galaxy could tolerate more than one of me, must block this._ Without gravity, they would need to push themselves down like a scramball towards the goal, past any defense, into the net to score a victorious survival. Siri spared one look below her. There was a landing spot that could hold them steady, yes, that was their target, now to block the offensive radiation. A Force-bubble sprang from her mind, joining with Obi-Wan's in a shared strategy. It was too late to try anything else other than the enhanced static electricity that constituted her weak Force-bubble. Why, oh, why didn't she practice more with it, make it into a true shield and not something to hold back her hair conveniently. It was too late for anything but holding her breath, concentrating on adding her strength to Obi-Wan's. Siri spread herself on Obi-Wan's lap and regretted that she was not a taller, flabbier Jedi, so that her mass could have helped to shield him from the radiation she sensed would be coming their way. She did the best she could, clapping each arm and leg over Obi-Wan's, mashing her limbs to the point of pain so that they spread out and covered his. As much as when she had manipulated the air bubble in his vac suit in the shuttle, she pressed in, ignoring her agonized shoulder and arm. It was bravery, but she didn't think of herself as brave, merely Jedi.

But what was this? Obi-Wan was more powerful than he had been in the Initiates' Hall and on various missions with Qui-Gon and Master Adi and herself. _How in the nine hells of Corellia_ _did he manage that? I'm just an adjunct to his shielding us. I don't li--understand it. _Working together, they maneuvered the Force-bubble over themselves, Siri working downwards from their heads and Obi-Wan upwards from their feet. They had almost merged the bubbles around their midsections and maneuvered themselves to the level below when the unseen radiation hit them, tingling and sparking nerve endings despite their shielding. Particles caressed their unprotected middles with strange clenching waves that Siri had felt long years ago, with whatever-his-name-had-been, her second lover in Krayn's slaver pack. Siri strained outward and arched her back and grunted. Then it was over. _I __**love**__ it now! Keep it up, Obi-Wan, whatever you're doing._

_It's like I've eaten at Dex's Diner. I feel stuffed, and not in a good way._ Obi-Wan grunted along with Siri, holding her waist tightly. Over the past few days, he had grown into the ability of perceiving his Anakinesque level of midichlorians and sensed them adapting, flowing, _protecting_ him from the radiation. But they had limits, as did all things. Siri's waist had tensed, then released. She lolled against him, her helmeted head falling backward to the crook of his neck. She opened her eyes dreamily as she turned, relaxing against him and looking sideways into his range of view. There was vulnerability, a softness he hadn't seen in her before. They blinked in unison.

Siri sighed and moved slightly in his lap. "It's over with." He remained still. _What a pulse that was, one big bang of it and then nothing. _She squirmed again. "Obi-Wan, it's through. You can let go."

"Uh, yes." Anakin would have made a bad joke here, now that the danger was past. But Siri was not Anakin. "On to our current predicament, Siri. The cylinder's shielding failed, Grievous got away, I'm not sensing anything like an explosion building up, Drakas' report said that the cylinder was getting only power from the station and so that is why the computer and the cylinder failed and not the entire platform -- "

"We've got something to take home, Oafy." Siri slowly put her gloved hand to her belt and came up with the glob of crystal. Obi-Wan reached for it, equally slowly, but Siri said, "Nothing doing. You concentrate on that breached suit until we get back onto the shuttle." She let the crystal accretion drift a little out of her grasp until Obi-Wan made a grab for it again, but Siri put it away in her belt. "Back to my bike."

"Just yours?"

"Yes, I'm glued to you like this until the atmosphere is up again in the shuttle. I can provide pressure to reinforce your cut suit's integrity." _I've heard that others have had their suits breached and survived because human skin is actually a good pressure suit itself and has a high tensile strength, but I'm taking no chances, my friend._

"I can handle -- oh, very well." Since Obi-Wan's body blocked Siri's jets, he was the only one who could move them towards the bikes. _Space. Why did it have to be space._ For the second time in as many months, he needed to rely his own wits to survive off the comfort of solid footing. He dared not look down. He looked out, instead. The scene lacked the aurora, the pleasant tingle of seeing such beauty closehand, almost of being part of a rainbow himself. This time everything was the color of ice, a clear hardness with no texture of colors.

"I want to get into atmosphere as soon as possible," he said as the two of them sat on her bike. "And I want to retrieve my bike, too." _Those mods I simply will not lose._ Siri nodded.

"Certainly, Master Kenobi."

_Meanwhile, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains ..._

As much peace as Tholme was ever likely to know before joining the Force, he found with T'ra Saa. He knew he was a small part of her life, but he believed he was a fulfilling element. She had even told him so, when he was young and vigorous. Life was simpler now in that regard, which was perhaps a good thing, because coordinating the war's intelligence gathering took nearly all his energy. T'ra seemed charmed by his steadfast attention to her for thirty years. She couldn't know how pleasant an interlude with her was for him. Their friendly, fully-cloaked tryst today on Yoda's favorite bench near the Room's waterfall feature was typical of the calm nature of most of their meetings.

"Tholme is weary?"

"Tholme is _exceedingly_ weary. Tholme wants to run barefoot through T'ra Saa's hair." It was a foolish thing to refer to themselves in such a way, but wordplay had replaced other sorts of play for the past year. Tholme was quite certain that T'ra was equanimical about it.

T'ra had perfected the Romin tinkling laugh. "Tholme would get splinters." She tugged playfully at his long tail of grayed hair.

_Enough of this. It's not why I came._ "T'ra, give me what I came here for."

Tholme had never felt so cocooned with contentment as he did when T'ra's arms came around him, supporting his every move and thought, protecting without pause to augment their cloaks' protection from the waterfall's mist. Tholme and T'ra both fell silent, simply breathing and existing, and Tholme's fantasy when he was newly Knighted, about complete immersion in the Force for the rest of his life, preferably in a cave somewhere, came as close as it ever would or could to reality in this timeless stretch. It was almost better than using the Force himself. Almost.

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

Anakin could see the appeal of FlibbertiGibbit bird. The benevolent giant suffered younglings of all ages and species to crawl on him and pull his scarlet feathers. Anakin had even seen a gibbit bird, once. Along with Owen and Sabra, he watched as Beru offered a hug to the two-meter-tall bird with the striped feet. It wasn't a hologram, his senses told him; someone was actually in a suit, dispensing chittering noises that all the younglings around him seemed to understand and chortle at. Sabra held a hand each of Owen and Anakin, her face doubtful. On the HoloNet, FlibbertiGibbit bird stood a _half_-meter tall. FlibbertiGibbit did shuffling dances, he sang in nonsense rhymes, he clacked his beak in rhythm to a chorus of guest younglings who sometimes said things that made their parents whisk them away with words of apology to their avian host. Sabra couldn't articulate what she saw, but she did know that her mother watched the program with her and laughed loudest at whatever it was that the younglings said. Sabra took one step forward, not relinquishing the men's hands.

"Sabra." Sabra looked up at her father. "Ma wants you." Beru stood next to the thing that looked like FlibbertiGibbit, but wasn't. Beru gestured for Sabra to come to her. Sabra pulled back again. She pressed her face against Owen's knee.

"Saaaabra." Anakin winked at Owen and bent down near the ear that wasn't covered by her FlibbertiGibbit hat. "Go tell Ma a secret for me." He whispered in Sabra's ear. She looked incredulously up at him, he nodded vigorously and she walked forward. They hung back. She pulled. They didn't budge. With a toss of her head, she ran to her mother.

Beru picked her up. "Sabra, do you have a message for me?"

Sabra pressed sweet-sticky lips to her mother's ear. "Hurgik faw dinneh."

Beru frowned exaggeratedly. Sabra rarely saw Beru's frown. "We'll not have Herglic ice cream for dinner tonight, baby girl. We shall have vegetables and protein slabs and then _more_ vegetables for dessert -- "

"No! Nono! Unka _wants_."

Beru batted her eyelashes. "Ohhh, _Unka_ wants it. Well, then. Maybe. We'll see." Sabra relaxed.

FlibbertiGibbit busied himself with a Twi'lek boy who pulled out a handful of red feathers from the costume. There was a _whir_ as Beru noticed new red feathers sprouting from the patient costume wearer. The Twi'lek boy pulled them out again, laughing.

Beru offered the boy one sweet for each hand from her bag. He accepted them and the costumed icon turned beady eyes on her. "Thank you," his vocoder chittered. Beru jerked her head to mean, "Come closer." FlibbertiGibbit bird wobbled his legs in his usual way and slid next to them with a giant step.

"Ah, ah, ah, sq_uueeeEEEEAAA__**ALLLLL**__L!"_ shrieked Sabra, caught between delight and terror. Delight won out as FlibbertiGibbit held out his claw with a palm-sized holoemitter nestled in it. A smaller version of himself clacked and pranced as Sabra stared. _This _was familiar.

"What did your parents tell you _not_ to tell me today?" HoloFlibbertiGibbit said in perfect Basic. Beru laughed like she did at home, Sabra held out her arms for a hug from the monster and Owen made Anakin enable the automatic setting on their rental holocamera droid. It hovered, Anakin rushed to the group and FlibbertiGibbit bird flung large wings about his and Owen's shoulders. Anakin tried not to remember that a real gibbit bird ate carrion and smiled for their souvenir.

Later that day the Joy Dome proved unlike their expectations. Anakin couldn't see how anything like Theed's Pleasure-Rama could exist here in this ingenuous atmosphere. Was there a youngling sitting service to care for offspring while the adults enjoyed some adult time? No, that was not the idea at all. What the name meant was 'joy for all ages' so there were adult versions of games with adult-sized gaming pieces. Holograms of childhood heroes interacted with patrons and their offspring, handing out holovids of their exploits for souvenirs. Even the tiniest of younglings were not skimped on for advertising, and Anakin noticed bald human babies no bigger than the youngest Initiate sporting headbands that read "_Safe for the tenderest stomachs ... Naturelac, your grandparents' choice. Shouldn't it be yours?" _

"Owen, where's the family?"

Owen made his fifty-eighth ringer at a throwing game and gathered yet another stuffed colo claw fish from the droid prize dispenser. Owen's carryall was getting full. "Beru's feeding her in the ladies' lounge." A Gran youngling in the lane next to him was not so lucky at the game. Owen handed over his new toy to the boy, earning grateful looks and bleats from the boy's liveried nanny. She was busy with a bonneted infant who cooed for a bottle.

"Oh. I thought Beru might have given up on that by now. Sabra must be draining her dry."

"We'll do it for a while yet. It helps with spacing births, you know." Owen moved on down the promenade to wait his turn for a dance grid. The elevated platform had a Praci trying to match its slow rolling motion to the rapid series of colored flashing lights on the frosted tiles. They observed while the Praci attempted the impossible.

"No, I didn't know." _And I don't need to know. I'll leave all that kind of thing up to Masters Lu and Bant and Allie._

"Next year we want another one. I think three years apart is good, don't you?"

_"I_ wouldn't know that, either." _Ick, internal stuff._ "Erm, look, Owen, it's giving up. Want to try?" The Praci gurgled its distinctive laugh as it goodnaturedly gestured its pseudopod to a cleaning droid. The droid rotored on spinning cloth appendages over the damp tiles, absorbing all the moisture that Praci left behind when they exerted themselves in any way. The droid beeped in gratitude as the gelatinous being formed an arrow to point where the cloth strips had missed a spot. _They are simply the __**nicest**__ beings you'd ever want to meet, _thought Anakin, smiling until his jaws ached as the Praci exuded a customary farewell bubble in their direction in pure goodwill, resorbing it as it undulated down the steps and away. Four minutes later, the inviting clean tiles flashed to a beginner's beat as Owen and Anakin felt their way into the rhythm.

"Up?"

Owen rolled up his sleeves as his feet continued to dance. He nodded. Anakin said clearly, "Advance one half level." They matched each other in stepping, Owen's height being closer to the Galactic norm actually an advantage on the generic grid. Anakin had to consciously curb his impulse to widen his stance during the escalating tempo. It took another five minutes for them to stabilize.

"More?"

Owen broke out in a sweat. "Yes. Just getting started." He pulled his neckline down as far as it could go.

"Advance one full level." Lanky clumped hair bobbed as Owen matched Anakin beat for beat. The next level would have them full out in a brotherly competition that Anakin wasn't sure he wanted.

"More!"

"Why, when ... we don't ... have to ... " Anakin panted.

"More fun than ... I've had ... since the ... last Grange ... picnic ... " Sweat streamed down Owen's face as he waved his arms to counterbalance his weaving feet, swaying like a gyroscope about to fall. He shot a look at Anakin, a laugh erupting. "Brother ... _go_ ... for it ... "

"Ad ... vance ... one ... full ... le ... vel ... " was the last thing Anakin said for three more minutes. They were in a dead heat.

"Pa! Pa!" Sabra's treble pierced the mutter of the crowd that had gathered.

Owen stopped and bent over, hands on knees. Anakin stopped at the same time and they both searched for Sabra and Beru. The two stood next to the Praci, whose sticky surface formed five pairs of applauding palms. Beru's eyes widened at the sight of the two overheated men. She glanced at the multitude around her and her daughter but stepped up anyway to be the center of attention along with the two dancers.

"Here now, this is supposed to be a vacation." Sabra started to laugh and Beru joined in. The men did look exhausted, though they grinned like fools and slapped each other's backs when they had regained their strength. Beru led them to the Comestibles Court. "Sit and watch Sabra. I'll get you something. Owen?"

"My usual."

"There's no liquor _or_ ale here."

"Well, there goes the fun out of Hologram Fun World!" burst out Anakin. He and Owen got their breath back. "Water, please." Hunger took over after they slaked their thirst. Anakin allowed the Lars family to treat him to a string of entrees, bivoli tempari with extra sweet sauce followed by a hearty serving of grayweave, in deference to their budget. Long draughts of water filled him up. There was the promised Herglic ice cream for dessert. A stupor overtook Anakin as he sat there digesting and if it weren't for Sabra's yawns and Beru's heavy lids he might have fallen into a meditation, or a light doze.

"Was the gap filled?" queried Owen, sounding just like Cliegg.

"Ohhh, yes. Thanks."

"Time for bed. _I'm_ done in." A lifetime of hard work lay ahead of Owen, yet he was having fun this vacation. Anakin thought his visit was a success.

"Tomorrow is another day."

Owen took a drowsy Sabra from Beru and stood. "Onward, brother. You lead the way."

Anakin regretted his last helping of Byss cheese as he covered his mouth. "Excuse me. Good food, good meat, good stars, let's sleep."

The Koann Kondominiums had enough charm for visitors' short stays and not enough to live in them. Anakin thought he had a full stomach, but the cupboards had been stocked with gand cake and glazed glucose pate. They made a bedtime snack he would always remember. It was a souvenir, in a way.

_Meanwhile, orbiting the Kaer Orbital Platform ..._

Obi-Wan plucked the plastifoam out of his bellybutton and sighed. Grievous had escaped again. Though Obi-Wan did not believe in luck, the alternative was to credit Grievous with more intelligence and prescience than the Jedi and that he simply couldn't do. _But Jedi are not infallible. We can do things like rewrite the Code. We recognize ourselves as unfinished work._ That was the place to which his most recent meditation had delivered him. He told himself that he was content with that revelation. On the other hand -- Obi-Wan swiveled the co-pilot's chair to form a visual barrier between his lower nudity and the highly reflective viewport -- Siri seemed to possess a higher degree of luck than he did. He discounted surviving the trip to Olanet's upper atmosphere. That had been the Force moving though him. Didn't his amplified midichlorian count prove it? _So how do you account for today? Lucky we escaped the worst of the cloning radiation, lucky the radiation shot its load in one burst and blew out its generators, unlucky to have been in the vicinity at all. _He pulled on his regular uniform, still thinking about the conundrum. "Ready?"

The rustling behind him continued. "No. Lost the kriffing plastifoam somewhere -- _uhhhn -- _oh, there it is. Yes, now I'm ready." Siri kicked the discarded suits to the back of the shuttle and forgot about them. "Let's look at your cut."

"No cut, just a bruise, see?"

"Push your waistband lower. Eh, that could use some help to begin healing. Allow me, sir."

"I'll join you, starting ... _now."_ Obi-Wan coasted down the part of Siri's aura that reached out to his and rolled a surge of health to his middle. When the contusion stopped aching, he smiled.

"What are you doing?" Siri withdrew her Masterly touch, but Obi-Wan's remained on her body, warming her hand as he held it firmly against him. A roaring wave of energy overran her elbow, arm socket and shoulder. "Ooooh, _Obi_-Wan! I want ... I w-want ... oh, more ... yes ... oh ... _oh! ... _that's, that's ... _nice."_ She flexed experimentally. "Yes, greatly improved, thank you."

They switched on the autopilot and separated to rest as much as they could in the small craft. The trip to Tunroth Colonial Valley seemed shorter than the outward bound one.

TBC

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Brother-in-Law, who passed Monday. He was the one who declared that we all should see Star Wars, a "movie with great visuals," and so Mother, Step-father, Sister, Brother-in-Law, Nephew and pronker stood in a long line for a _9 a.m. Sunday_ showing in 1977 to enjoy a "movie with great visuals" that captivated all of us. But I was the only one who went the next day to see it again. To Brother-in-Law, photographer of flowers and connoisseur of genre films and art films. You also ensured that Nephew made the long trip to Disneyland in my care. Skoal!


	27. Chapter 27

"It'll burn off in the atmosphere ... "

"I suppose." Obi-Wan reinforced his faintly polite expression, aware that the triumvirate that included Eldest observed him from out of earshot with practiced stoicism. The Jedi's ninety-meter craft no longer shone with its original bright plating, and he could not help shooting an indignant look at the culprits as they ambled past the far corral, their bawling receding as they were herded to their usual meadows, Sweetbud leading the way. _Here comes the Assemblage of Three. I'll let Siri do the talking again._

" ... freeze off in space. We'll ... make sure it does, delay our entry into hyperspace, hit sublight for an orbit or two ... "

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. "It was a _good_ idea, Siri. I'm not complaining."

Siri folded her arms inside her cloak's sleeves as the wind picked up, looking the Master that she was. The spring breeze here in the Valley was not as cool as it was in their first foothill encampment near the droid factory, yet it was a chilling thing anyway, blowing the usual Olanet grit. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let's leave these good beings, shall we?" He threw a dazzling smile in the approaching Assemblage's direction. They resembled walking duracrete statues with stone chips protruding from their shoulders, jawlines and foreheads. He was glad he was not their prey.

Siri bowed. "Indubitably. After you."

"On the contrary, after _you."_

"No, I need to play diplomat with Eldest, so after _you."_

Obi-Wan pinched his nostrils shut with one hand and extended one finger of the other as he Force-pushed the befouled hatch release button. When the passenger ramp slid down with a _slrrpshhh_ sound and a shudder of unsteady vibration, he minced stickily aboard the _Dubious Content,_ his cloak's hood up, sleeves fully extended. More dislodged ordure and worse plopped down from the hatch coaming onto the ramp as he sidestepped various semi-dessicated piles with alacrity and ducked inside. Their craft's camouflage had been completely successful.

"A quick parting is best, Siri." Obi-Wan's voice came sonorously through the external speakers after a minute. "I'll get things rolling." There was a _pssst_ as he finalized the seal on the cargo ramp where their shuttle and speeder bikes had been loaded minutes before. Various running lights blinked and strobed as he began the pre-flight checks.

Eldest approached Siri with an undue amount of solemnity. "Is he a good hunter?"

"The best."

"Is he as discerning when he fulfills your personal needs?"

"Always," Siri smiled.

"Then you should reinforce his training in negotiating."

Siri kept her face pleasantly frozen._ Boasting, it's part of their culture. Keep it up, Siri._ "He came to me _supremely _well-trained in _every _subject by the absolute _best_ hunter that the Jedi have." There was small hope of explaining their friendship. Eldest straightened with an audible _pop_ to her back. Siri thought of her own spine's creaking lately. _But I'm in my prime, at the top of my game. I __**am. **_

"As you say, Jedi." A soft sigh fluttered the moist edges of Eldest's top-slitted nose. "I am far beyond such things, but how well-made is your male?"

Still smiling, Siri spread her hands a quarter-meter apart, then touched the thumbs and first fingers of each hand to make one circle._ That's pushing it even from the viewport's distorted reflection, but Obi-Wan, this lie is for you._

A longer, more mournful sigh escaped Eldest and the other two members of the Valley's Assemblage of Three each took an elbow in her support, but she shrugged them off. "My own green memories overwhelm me." She speared Siri with a look. "Your hunt was unsuccessful."

Siri's face fell. "It was." _Can't fool you._

"Another time, then you will bring home a rich pelt and meat for your table."

_Metaphorically, yes._ "We leave with our thanks. _Ummmhhrrrorrrglllljedimooooonnniiip. _May The Force Be With You." Siri kicked backwards until she raised dust and Eldest followed through with the ritual parting head butt. Siri swayed her way gingerly up the ramp.

Obi-Wan switched to manual and the _Dubious Content _rose and spun under his control, taking to the skies and then the dark comfort of space. It seemed to speak of his home and of Anakin's intensity in it. This was the difference between before Trow and after: flying was merely another pile to step over, an apt comparison to chores or unpleasantnesses such as those he had stepped over on the ramp. "What were you talking about out there?"

Siri rubbed her forehead. "You."

"Favorable, I hope."

"You might say that."

Obi-Wan saw her expression and frowned. "You didn't overdo things to compromise my modesty? I can't live up to anything impossible, you know."

Siri snorted like Eldest. "You have much to be modest about." _But how did you gain such power? I'm sensing it's to do with the Chosen One. Eh, I don't need to know. You'll tell me if you want to._

"All right, all right, play around as you see fit. You did well to gather the crystal." It rested in her belt pouch, a small rattling mystery. She patted it from time to time on the way back home, finally giving it to Obi-Wan distractedly upon their arrival.

At the Temple hangar, Anakin greeted Obi-Wan with an embrace of affection and set about immediately unloading the speeder bikes. "Hitched a ride on a gambling ship back here, like I commed you I might. They had room for the shuttle, half-sized as it is."

"How are the Lars?"

"Fine, all of them. They are the most _organized _bunch, Obi-Wan. They are _planning _an addition to the family."

Obi-Wan patted his speeder bike as he replaced it in its customary slot and activated the dust repulsor._ Would it be too un-Jedi-like to customize its paint, purely to identify me to the clones more easily?_ "Many families do, I hear." Anakin settled Siri's bike in for her. She had nodded a greeting at him, squeezed Obi-Wan's arm and departed for the Council debriefing with quick steps. "You're looking well, Padawan."

"Ohhhh, yes. I had _fun." And I visited Mom. Things feel more settled, like. _Anakin studied his Master. "I'm thinking you have something up your sleeve, now why is that?"

"Because I do." Obi-Wan extracted from a bell-shaped sleeve a clear packet with a clearer thing inside. "Grievous left this by mistake."

"Obi-Wan! _Grievous_ was on the platform? And you two are in one piece?" Anakin felt over Obi-Wan's arms and ribs as he had on Olanet after Obi-Wan's plunge to the ground. "I want to be in on your debriefing as well."

"I'll need your input; of course you will be there. Let's go."

"Informed, you would be, if mishap had befallen Knight Olin, Master Tachi. No news is good news, hmmmm?" Yoda was saying as the two entered the chamber. The debriefing lasted two hours and by the end of it, the Council, Siri, Obi-Wan and Anakin had more questions than answers.

"To the Analysis Room, this sample goes. Innocuous, it seems. No sense of its purpose, I have." Yoda applied his Force-sense to the three Jedi in front of his hoverchair. The elders, depleted in strength but happy to be home; the younger, renewed in strength and eager to strike at the Separatists. _Youth. Padme has it and orbit around her, I do. Or are we both in synchronous orbit with the Republic?_ His last conversation with Padme had ended with another stalemate on the subject of the Force. _The Children's Museum, takes more and more of her time, it does. Fault that, I cannot._

_Meanwhile, in Soul Healer Regork's office ..._

_"Ooooooh. Ahhhhhhh." _Regork's head throbbed as he moaned. _No one should sssuffer ssso_.

"Regork! Are you all right? I let myself in." Adi approached the diagnostic couch; in the darkened office, it was an island whose pink lampglow spotlighted a sprawling Regork who was barely breathing. "Regork!"

"Not ssso loud. It's my speciesss' molting time." _Problemsss, problemsss, who listensss to mine?_

"I didn't know. Sorry." Adi made no move to leave Regork to his privacy. He sighed as he dropped his tail floorwards to counterbalance sitting up. Lazily, he stretched beneath the lamp's healthy glow.

"Emergency?"

Adi considered. She had not been idle and now two hundred thirteen Jedi expressed interest in leaving the Order with her. To her regret, only one fellow Master, a Council member, fell out on her side: Saesee Tiin. They two would be enough because they had to be. Between them, they had scores of years of Council experience. A small enclave of erstwhile Knights on a suitable planet would not be poorly led. _If only we had a Kel-Dor, a Neti, well, perhaps I do have a Neti, one Master for science as Koon would be and one to take the long view, like T'ra. If I could only be certain of T'ra or recruit Plo ... if only ... _"Not exactly. I did have some bad days lately, but I've been able to pull myself out of my usual loop of bad nerves."

"I am here for you. Pleassse tell me about it."

Adi seated herself next to Regork on the wide couch. His hide felt as heated as it ever did, though his vibrant colors had turned lackluster with his yearly springtime molt. The lamp warmed them both as Adi did a self-diagnostic of her mental state. "I'm concerned about Siri. I'm concerned about my Grand-Padawan. I'm concerned about leaving the Jedi in the midst of a war. I'm concerned about funding our endeavors, finding a base, establishing a pension plan for our more aged members, and so many other issues, Regork, that it isn't even funny."

"Elderly _Jedi_, problematical?"

Adi pointed a rigid forefinger at her breastbone. "I blame myself. I didn't foresee that Jedi who could not adapt or did _not_ choose to adapt to the revised Code might be _seasoned_, erm, that is, beyond middle age into their golden years. We number some younger Jedi, but I should have foreseen this, I _should_ have -- "

_Ssshe needsss my help. _"Ssshould is ssshit." _Qui-Gon used to sssay that a lot. _"Nonsenssse. You have thought your plan through; now work your plan."

"Can you come with us?" Adi had asked him before, but today she needed reassurance in nearly everything.

"We've discussed this previously. I choossse to remain here, in-Temple."

"If only Siri will come with me!"_ Adi, get a grip. You sound needy._

Regork massaged some oil from the gland near the base of his tail onto his talons. Its musk filled Adi's senses, indefinably soothing. Perhaps that was one reason he became a Soul Healer, she mused; it was in his very essence to comfort others. _But I don't need comfort. I need answers, many of them organizational. And I won't get them from you._ "You have two legsss to ssstand upon, Adi. You don't need her. And you've sssaid before that she leansss against joining you."

Adi was still pondering her choices' consequences when Regork finally finished grooming. He looked a little unkempt, the same as before, but she was deep in her own thoughts and put aside her urge to tell the whole truth, all at once, as was her wont.

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

"No live butler? No live seneschal?" It was an awkward opening remark, but then Anakin felt awkward standing for the first time at at the entryway of Padme's elegant estate in the Ambassadorial District near Loijin Plaza. Padme was no longer intoxicating, simply a part of his past that he had to revisit occasionally. If it hadn't been for the droids, he might not have ever seen her regularly again, except in her capacity as Vice-Chancellor and his as Knight -- ah, _Padawan_ -- protector. He compared this feeling to his usual cheerfulness around Obi-Wan, and decided that he had made the right choice in divorcing her. It didn't mean they lacked a common ground for discussion, however strained it might be. Some days went smoother with her than others. He sensed today was one of the others.

"Come _in_, Padawan Skywalker. I'm having company today. My butler is out getting aurodium-tasseled cozies for my aurodium-plated tea set. I've moved up in the galaxy, you see." _It's going to be one of __**those**__ meetings. How could I have stood it, living with him as we got older and were in each others' pockets?_ Padme dropped the sarcasm and put on her politician face. "There is some refreshment in the sunroom," she droned.

She looked serious and little frazzled, Anakin thought as he followed her. "Are the droids ready?" It was his term of custody.

"I'm having them download something for Cousin Enri."

"Which cousin is that?" Padme had cousins all over Naboo, mostly in or near Theed.

Padme handed him a goblet of water and took a tumbler for herself. _Would he like a drink? It's early, perhaps a Namana Neuronumb pick-me-up._ Alcohol was a source of contention between Yoda and herself, Yoda urging her to 'feel the Force' and so cut back on stimulation of the chemical kind. It wasn't happening. She had an occasional serving of Naboo wine these days. "He's a distant cousin from the Lake Country. You never met him." She looked him up and down. "How is Obi-Wan?"

"Fine. We're fine, he's fine." _Master Tachi and Obi-Wan, I don't think I need worry about anymore. Or do I?_

_Something's going on between them. Or has gone on. I don't need to be Force-sensitive to know __**that.**_ Padme seated herself on the wicker settee's yellow cushions, folding her hands in her light blue morning robes. "I have some time, Anakin."

"You know, Padme, I _am_ capable of handling my own problems." Anakin sat beside her.

"Of course I know. What problems?" _Yours first._

_Might as well._ "Obi-Wan was sick and it left some residual effects. For two _years_. He's better now." _And more powerful, but I can't explain these things to you. _"Before we were able to become intimate again, he seemed interested in someone else. I, I didn't handle it well. I still can't."

_Two ... __**years? **_"Who was it?" _Of all people, Obi-Wan. I haven't seen him in person for so long, but he seems the same handsome Jedi on the HoloNews as before._

_"Master _Siri Tachi. She's all right, she's his friend, but I was imagining things -- " _Crack! _Anakin removed the goblet from his mechno-hand. The crystal bowl had detached from its thin stem and base. "Sorry," he muttered. _Her half of our first and only anniversary gift. Kriff._

"They're both broken now. Mama would be sad if she knew." Padme discarded the pieces. "So, Siri's becoming a problem?" _Ommane and me. Anakin and Obi-Wan. We're all broken, while Yoda, ah, my Yoda ... Is there __**any**__ stability anywhere? _Yoda's words remained as a backdrop to her thoughts. "Lovers unaware, all Jedi are now. Jumped into the river of love without life preservers, we did, and our feelings too raw to be borne." Yoda's nine hundred years hadn't blunted his perceptions of interpersonal relations or made him callous to tender feelings. Padme recalled his first advances to her with a small blush as she shifted her attention back to her ex-husband. "So, Anakin, I asked if Siri is a problem. She's a little, um, rough-hewn for Obi-Wan to be interested in her, isn't she? I'd have thought someone more fragile, a non-Jedi, might catch his attention, if you and he were to split the blanket."

"We're _not_ splitting up, Padme. We _were_ going through a rough patch for certain reasons, but we were _not _splitting up." _Let that be the truth, Unifying Force. Let me at least know that much about us. _"I don't know what we're doing, other than _not_ splitting up," he mumbled. It humbled him to speak like this with his ex-wife. He'd not wanted to confide in her after their breakup at all. Now he looked down at her from his greater height and thought she might help. She had much more experience in this than he did, particularly after two years of dancing, swimming, dating, living with, cavorting with ... others. Master Tholme would have said she was the perfect spy for his network. She was bright, social, _never_ attached that the public knew about, and stylish in her clothing and way of life. She attracted people. She had attracted him, once.

"I don't know Siri well," Padme speculated. "There was that one mission we were on to Azure, she was efficient, and that was all I needed to know. What is she like, off-mission?"

"She enjoys sparring day and night, but then we all do. She has a not particularly close relationship with her former Master, Adi Gallia. Master Gallia has issues with the new Code and speaks out plainly against it. Siri doesn't seem to care one way or the other. If the Order splinters, I think she'll stay friends with Master Gallia's side, but will remain mainstream. She is remarkably apolitical, even for a Jedi." Anakin considered the large figurine he had picked up from the caf table to give his hands something to do. "Palo of Naboo" was incised in its underside in a small, elegant chop. The figurine's subject was a snowy scene, an isolated home in a Nubian forest, perhaps near Varykino. The snow puffed around the home almost up to the windowsills, while a bright welcoming light spilled out from the windows and made the snowdrifts glow golden. A weary traveler with a satchel full of gifts trudged up the cleared pathway, no doubt homeward bound. This piece made a pleasant contrast to the clown paintings in their former home at 500 Republica. Padme must have changed decorators, and for the better.

"Siri didn't like Obi-Wan for some reason for years, Padme. Oh, I don't suppose she _dis_liked him, either, but for agemates, and they even went back to crechemates, they lacked, uh, nostalgia. I've sensed it with other Jedi when they meet up again as adults. Obi-Wan said that she was nice to him when Master Qui-Gon joined the Force, and then she left on her longterm undercover mission and was changed when she returned. Their schedules prevented many meetings as time went on." He replaced the figurine carefully with both hands onto its mark in the dust outline of the caf table. _Threepio needs to get back here and clean. It's worse than Tatooine._

_"_Until recently."

Anakin doodled an Osk and a Krill in the table's dust. "They made up some months ago, on a mission. Then she and he went _alone_ on another mission. Eh, everything's all right now. I think. No, I'm sure. I _am._ What about you? Still enjoying following that band of yours around at night?"

"_Cold Cuts,_ and no, I haven't done much of that la--" _Ding-dong! Dinnnnnggg-dong!_

"Cousin Padme? I just got back. Shall I get it?" A deep, refined voice echoed into the sunroom, loud enough to penetrate the etched glass doors.

Padme thumbed the room's comm unit. "I'm in the sunroom, Cousin, and I'll get it, thanks." Padme threw Anakin a nervous smile. "My houseguest. Excuse me. Threepio had quite a bit of work to do before he could leave with you." She gathered the folds of her robes and stood. "I dedicated him and Artoo solely to their tasks. Disabled their auditory circuits," she tossed over shoulder, her house shoes noiseless on the beige rug.

"Do you know how to do that?" Anakin called after her. He fiddled with the figurine again. "When did you le-- awww, I'll wait." Anakin swiftly used his sleeve to clean the tabletop before tidily replacing Palo's figurine in its usual spot once more. _Obi-Wan's habits have gotten into my brain. That's what you get for living with someone you've imprinted with. _He smiled at the thought.

_Ding-dong-dinnngg-dongggg! _There was a _chirp-chirp _of disabled security, a hiss of great doors opening, muted voices and then shuffling steps accompanied by clacks of a cane on Selonian marble floors approached rhe sunroom. Anakin rose.

"Master Yoda ... uh ... "

"Padawan Skywalker. A neighborly visit for our Vice-Chancellor? More ideas for our Jedi Children's Museum, have you?" Yoda cocked an ear in Anakin's direction, a half-smile curving his seamed lips.

"No, another purpose, Master. I'm borrowing Threepio and Artoo Detoo. It's time for their post-mindwipe ten thousand-hour checkup," Anakin improvised. _He doesn't know that I was married, only that I was with Padme the night Palpatine died. Or did Obi-Wan tell him? _The Grandmaster could have divined it somehow, but did it even matter anymore? Anakin sighed. The morning sun's rays painted a yellow ball on the room's flocked wallpaper. Anakin remembered a cheery poem he had composed to Coruscant's one puny sun for Master Tobin's creative writing class when he first came to the Temple. Obi-Wan probably had it stored on his private datapad somewhere. In a technical sense, the poem did not qualify as a possession and the sheer intellectuality of it all skirted the Code neatly. The limited possessions rule was one that the Jedi Code revision had not touched.

Yoda slitted his eyes. "Mmmmm. Yes. Thought, I did, that you missed your friend and devised an excuse about the Museum to procure some of her time. _I_ would consider that, myself." He beamed up at Padme.

Padme was saved from replying by a large male figure at the sunroom's glass doors. "Cousin Enri! Join us, won't you? Enri Etolini, Master Yoda and Padawan Skywalker of the Jedi Order." Enri sketched a courtly bow.

Shapely calves, he has, Yoda thought as he reciprocated the bow and looked sideways.

He looks like her, curls and all, Anakin thought as he straightened.

What sights have they seen in this galaxy, Enri thought as the silence lengthened. _I'll never know such sophistication_. "Cousin, this seems a high-level meeting. My affairs with you can wait until you are free tonight. Master Jedi, I'm pleased to have met you." He bowed once more, removing his veda-cloth cape in the heat of the room. A powerful back, also, Yoda thought as Enri closed the glass doors behind him.

'_Affairs,' Cousin? A misleading term and I can't say anything without calling attention ... ah, kriff. _"Iced Kopi tea, anyone?" The sunroom was becoming slightly too warm.

Yoda became all business. "Serious discussion I will have with you, Your Excellency. And Padawan Skywalker, you will stay. Knowledge you also have of this _affair_."

_"Yoda." Your sense of humor, I like it not._

_I'm caught between. Better stay quiet._ Anakin straightened his shoulders, nearly at attention. He used the Force to subdue his apprehension over Yoda's next words.

"Won the terentatek carpet at _JediNow! _auction, Count Dooku has." Grim smiles appeared on the two humans' faces. "Moved the items earlier than expected, we did, in light of the mystery of Grievous' crystals."

_A mission! I'm coming for you, Dooku! It was all worth it, signing those holocards!_

_At last! This war can move to the negotiating table, if we capture Dooku! _Padme gazed deeply into Yoda's eyes, satisfaction coursing through her.

_A damper on their relief, I must put. _"Wants to meet the art dealer in person before final pickup, Honest1 requests." Yoda thwacked his cane against the carpet hard enough to rip out some strands of the expensive shag. "Palo of Naboo, a warrior he is _not."_

_Meanwhile, in the bowels of the Jedi Temple ..._

In the fifth low-level laboratory of the Temple, Plo Koon labored on with no lack of momentum. "Sit there, please." The fumes of his latest experiment filtered through his tri-ox mask. He supposed they would be nauseating to any being not Kel-Dor, but he felt no discomfort and neither did the clone trooper standing at attention beside the lab counter.

ARC5231 fumbled with the fold-down seat. Today was a bad day for him, thought he faced it with the equanimity he had been decanted with. "Sir."

Plo adjusted his scope. "Eyes open wide." _Pupils normal. I sense his discomfort._ "Tell me, any new symptoms?"

"Paresthesia in the left thigh. Numb _here _but not anywhere else. I can walk fine, sir." _Was I formed in a glass dish in a lab like this one?_

"That must be distracting." _How long will this cure take? Is it even possible?_

ARC5231 said grimly, "As you say, sir. But I filter it out as best I can." _Send me back to duty, please._

_He's frustrated with good cause. I need to find something for the battalion to do, that they __**can**__ do. _"You're ready for duty, along with the rest of your battalion's walking wounded."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"_Light_ duty."

"Sir?"

_More accessible to commoners, I mean non-Jedi, the new Code says to be. And I do plan on staying Jedi. _"I have an assignment for you, Trooper." Plo fixed him with a stern look through his mask. "It will help Jedi."

"Yes, sir!"

"Jedi who have need of help because they gave their entire lives to the Order." _You are young, ARC5231. You will invigorate them, Master Porpalam and the rest of the ... the ... rebels._ Rebels? Did the word 'rebel' and the word 'Jedi' go together? Yes, Plo decided; Adi and her Rebel Two Hundred Thirteen, so many of them gallant elders, could use the youthful strength of the Olanet Three Hundred. The injured warriors' diminished capacity would not matter and their near-worship of Jedi would smooth the way of any organizational problems. Plo would need to speak with Adi, he would need to consult with the clones' ranking officer ... _I'm getting involved. _He looked around the lab. _But I need to stay here and work. _Still so much more to accomplish here, but it was time to leave the laboratory to grow its cultures, bubble its retorts and distill its alembics. He was finished in his sheltering lab for the time being.

"Fall in, ARC5231. We're going to visit my fellow Master."

ARC5231 rubbed his left leg and stood. The leg supported him easily enough as he followed Plo out of the lab.

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

The last rainstorm of spring flung itself against mullioned windows as Palo whinnied like a mother shaak calling her colt. "Let me get back to you," he managed to choke out. He replaced the pile of flimsiplasts with his latest _My Little Gualaar_ designs on top of the comm console holoemitter, right next to the stack of second edition _Dual Duelling,_ Anakin and Obi-Wan's spin-off series of holocards from the _Jousting Jedi_ base run. The continuous political feed blared from the comm until he muted it with shaking fingers. For a moment he stared out the window at the framing cloudflower vine's blooms, whipping wildly in the wind. It took a few minutes to settle himself down enough to join his wife in their dining room.

Dorme straightened the dinner plates atop their chargers. "What."

"Padme says that there's a glitch in the plan. Dooku wants to meet me."

"Forget it."

"Padme wants me to. Master Yoda wants me to."

"Are you married to them or to me?"

Palo quibbled, still undecided. "You can bodyguard me until the actual meeting, Dorme. You've had the experience."

"I don't want to do that anymore. I'm out of the loop regarding the latest assassins' vibroblades" -- Palo flinched -- "smartbombs" -- Palo blinked rapidly -- "and the like. I retired from that." Dorme's features smoothed into what Palo called her 'sweetly concerned' face. It was one of the ones she had used when posing as Amidala. It would take some serious ammunition to convince her. He found himself hoping that she would talk him out of it. He dropped the bombshell.

"Padme will endorse me for Organa's official holoportrait if I do this. Think of what that will mean for my career."

"And _all_ you have to do is risk your life? Generous of her." _My __**former**__ mistress has a lot of gall. Not as much as Ommane, but a lot. _Dorme slapped down soup spoons. They ate in silence, Palo nibbling at his meal when he usually smacked his lips with gusto. The knock at the door came as a relief.

Someone in the indescribably comforting robes of a Jedi stood in the viewer. Slender hands pushed back the encompassing brown hood. The revealed dark eyes under bushy brows stared with great solemnity into the lens. _I've never seen him before. I've never seen him before. _Dorme almost curtsied as she opened the door. Handmaidens and the Jedi shared societies with codes. The handmaidens' code had two tenets: Protect the Queen. Protect the Senator. It had never seemed necessary to delineate how.

"How can I help y-- " she began, but the Jedi Knight held up a hand peremptorily, as if he were used to command, or as if he had limited time. Palo came to the door behind her, but Dorme couldn't _make_ the serious young man stay longer than he wanted. The Knight turned, his dark forelock glinting one silver thread from the flitterbug-repellent light on their front porch. "Don't be afraid. I'll be shadowing you," he said to them both, and vanished into the dark rain. _I've never seen him before. _Dorme rubbed her forehead. Or had she? Was this a Jedi mind trick? It didn't say much for her strength of mind if she had succumbed to one.

"I'll consider going with you, Palo." Dorme leaned back against the closed door. "I don't see how I can do otherwise, now." She rested her head on Palo's chest and he folded her into an embrace.

xxxxx

Serenno was an artist's dream, Palo thought, but only a two-dimensional artist. Pastels, gouache, or oils, Count Dooku's estate displayed a diverting, attractive flatness; as a sculptor, Palo looked for depths to carve into life. The depths that he perceived with his artist's eye bothered him and seemed too dark to portray in sculpture. Here dwelt a perversion of something good. He hadn't actually believed a Jedi _could_ go bad, until he stood as he did now before an old man. The silver hair and beard appealed aesthetically to him, the black garb flowing as the leader of the Separatists paced back and forth before him in Dooku's comm room. Palo blocked out all thoughts of his mysterious Jedi escort and pushed aside considerations of Dorme, too, who waited for him in their small two-person shuttle one hundred meters away at Docking Bay Two. He felt he knew his wife better than before, as she had donned a white unisuit and strapped on a bandolier this morning. The blaster at her hip made her dangerous. He was nearly afraid of her. Then she turned concerned brown eyes on him and they saw each other's happy lives together in jeopardy and that drew them closer than ever. "Stay safe," Dorme had commanded, and he had no intention of disobeying her.

The _JediNow! _item twirled on the comm station's holoemitter's base, the banner circling a blue roll of carpet and five stacked boxes of signed holocards. Palo felt obliged to elaborate on the company's verbiage. "You understand, sir" -- _stick with 'sir,' I cannot think of his title, 'Your Excellency,' no that wasn't it, 'Your Glory,' no --_ "that I am affiliated with the auction house and submit my original work and rare finds to them, but I do not write any blurbs. I did not write what you are reading right now."

Dooku had turned off the audio. It was nauseating enough for Palo to read, "Congratulations, Honest1! You have WON WON WON this lot of authentic Jedi-interest items. It consists of One. Jedi carpet, reputed to contain elements from Korriban itself, captured by our valiant Jedi from the nefarious Sith in the Great Hunt millenia ago. This tremendous find is augmented by Two. A FULL COMPLETE set of authentically signed holocards of all existing Jedi Knights and Masters, excluding Padawans. Whether in the field or not, each has signed a likeness. This magnificent lot can only appreciate in value in your collection and when you sell, please consider _JediNow!_ for your liquidation needs. The Management." A Praci officer of the company spread himself onto the banner, _JediNow!'s_ corporate logo forming in full color from his gelatinous undulating body. The loop repeated.

"From Korriban _itself!_ Can it be?" Dooku's aristocratic tone wavered rarely, but it did so now. For only the second time, he could point to an advantage in searching the Holonet for bargains. Adding a Sith heritage to his Serenno one, to have a relic from the Great Hunt of nearly four thousand years ago, a Jedi relic that would come into his Sithly possession, what a triumph that would be. He could step upon it daily. He would place it here, in his Serenno home, before the great window, and when he pulled up his chair to his desk, his feet would rest upon a _Jedi-crafted_ artifact. He would switch from a repulsor chair to a more uncomfortable chair with rollers. That would crush it all the more. And with his feet, he could stomp it. Alone, he could twist little patterns in its fringe, he could roll around on top of it, gloating. Only in his mind did he do such undignified things. Outwardly, he allowed himself a chilly smile. It wouldn't do to give away his enthusiasm to this paltry, if useful, being.

"I _am_ interested in you, Palo of Naboo. Does your shop come across these items in a scheduled, orderly way? I cannot be bothered with uncertain suppliers." _Probably doesn't even have it at the moment. It's all a deal on speculation, how bourgeois. _

_Got you._ "For you, a special deal. First time only, because good clients, _knowledgeable_ clients, are rare and a joy to meet. I can have this to you by next month." Palo calculated, ought to have it by then if all goes according to plan, yes, next month will be feasible. If it didn't happen, he had an old rancor-hide rug with minimal defects that could hold him, though Yoda and Padme's plan would have to be restructured. He hoped it all would go well, for everyone's sake, even Dooku's, who seemed aesthetically on a par with himself, though lacking in morals. _It's a fine line between us, Count, and I don't want to think about how fine. Art makes us brothers, one Sith, one not._ "What I can do to hold it for you is to take your private comm number, notify you when it is actually ready to be shipped. I can holo its image to you personally, so you can check it over first. Will you want the Express delivery?" Palo poised his fingers over his own private comm, ready to punch in the codes, smile replaced with an earnest, businesslike expression.

Dooku arched his eyebrows. "AArgau one, one-one-one-oh, and yes."

"Extension?"

"I beg your pardon?"

_Ulps. Be honest, because he can probably sense a lie, Palo. _"I apologize, sir. You're the first noble we've had as a client and I'm nervous. I'm new to the dealing end of the art business, you know? But if you decide to purchase this, it can make my shop's reputation." He bowed in a not-too-deep fashion, in keeping with building a client/procurer relationship. He knew his place. Three steps down the social ladder from Dooku, not four, not one. "I'll be in touch."

"Very well." Dooku moved to stand before Palo, Dooku's greater height intimidating less that his next cold words. "My private comm number is to remain private."

Palo nodded briskly and left, waiting until he cleared the estate's great doors before wiping his streaming brow. Padme would have been good at this subterfuge. He recalled how she had adjusted to using decoys, flattening her voice and mannerisms while acting as handmaiden, and even when younger, how she had flourished as a member of the Legislative Youth Group alongside him. Even though she was three years his junior, her abilities placed her in his age bracket. _Too bad Dooku despises her so. She could handle this better than I can. He'd probably fling something at her if they were ever in the same room._ Even when they had broken off their small romance, Palo had not gotten that angry with her. He liked her take on life. It was a pity that she was sharing it with no one permanently. He thought that she could mature into a passionate lover, given time. He hoped Master Yoda could handle that passion, if he were interpreting correctly the signals that Padme and Yoda gave off in his first meeting with them. At his age, Yoda ought to be able to handle anything. In theory, at least. Channeling mutual passion into a satisfying relationship at nine hundred, Palo could barely comprehend. But then Yoda had the Force, and if anyone could handle the situation, he could. Personally, Palo was content with his Goddess of Safety. He huffed out tensely, feeling his diaphragm clench with nerves, calming himself with a mental prayer to Her.

Dorme opened the ramp, scanned the docking bay with drawn blaster and gestured him aboard. They didn't speak until in hyperspace.

_Meanwhile, in the Kenobi/Skywalker quarters ..._

Anakin flung himself face-down on their fourposter. A good hard pounding for Obi-Wan. No, it had been too long. A tender kiss. Better ... a handjob ... so-so ... a cool morning swim in Tatooine's fabled lake country. Far more likely. Anakin couldn't wait for Obi-Wan's return to their home. He patted the luxurious two-hundred count sheets on their bed as he sprawled on their fourposter, ate Almond-kwevvu Crisp-munchies by the handsful and fantasized. A Zeltron named Gnatnoop had approached him at Hologram Fun World when Owen, Beru and Sabra had been playing in the Anywhere Room. Gnatnoop's pheromones, empathic ability and his genial host persona flowed over Anakin from the first.

"Having fun?" Another wave of pheromones and a projected romantic dinner for the two of them on a veranda, soft music and revelers popping fireworks in the background had forced itself into Anakin's mind.

"Huh, yeah," Anakin answered, momentarily stunned. Then he gathered the Force. Obi-Wan's pale skin and brown robes took the place of Gnatnoop's flushed features. Anakin blasted the revised image with three-quarters of his strength back at Gnatnoop.

Gnatnoop wavered. "Making s-sure you were enjoying yourself, no harm done, Jedi." The cerise skin paled to shell-pink. The Zeltron handed Anakin a business holocard. "Andros Gnatnoop, Major Designer Of Hologram Fun Zones. See his work at Hologram Fun World today!"

"Great little amusement park you got here!" Anakin Force-projected his voice at the Zeltron's retreating back. Gnatnoop walked faster.

Anakin chuckled at the memory and crammed another Almond-kwevvu Crisp-munchy into his mouth. He visualized Obi-Wan on Zeltros, fending off numerous admirers with an officious, "No sex, please, I'm Jedi." He laughed until the snack's crumbs threatened to choke him. _Obi-Wan, my Obi-Wan, you don't need pheromones or telepathy._ Anakin carried his fantasy to its logical end, after the dinner, after the veranda, ending the music, retreating to this very fourposter. Or perhaps the kitchen island again. _Oh, yes, there will be fireworks._

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

"We're on for the terentatek mission in about one month."

"But Master Yoda said 'Masters only' for it. What happened?" _It'll be perfect, you and I together, but why so?_

_"_Siri has been assigned another mission. She's to help Master Gallia separate her group from the Jedi in a practical, efficient manner." _And Siri was __**not**__ pleased with the assignment, not at all. Things would have gone over worse if she had known about being originally considered for the terentatek mission._

"It's all falling into place soon?" Anakin patted the spot beside him, but Obi-Wan continued to pace. He faltered before the mirrored closet doors once, gave himself a quick once-over, cinched his belt tighter and then continued his circuit.

"It seems so. Master Yoda and Master Gallia have been meeting all along. He became much more amenable to her departure when the Olanet Three Hundred were assigned to the rebels." Obi-Wan made a visible effort to stop pacing. He halted before the open window instead as the sheers billowed in a balmy breeze. The late afternoon was splendid with the promise of summer. There were even bird songs audible from Knight Fee's well-tended gardens.

_'Rebels?' Never. A schism, after all these centuries. Huh. _"The breakup was amicable?"

"Two hundred fourteen Jedi will be leaving at the end of this year, end of the war or no." Obi-Wan shook his head ruefully. "It's reasonable that Porrie may join the Force before she will be able to leave, and she can hardly wait, erm, to leave, that is. She's our eldest human Jedi."

"I brought Master Porpalam some datapads in the infirmary once two years ago, when you had your last appointment with Master Lu. She said the only thing she regretted about joining the Force in her due time was that she did not know whether to begin reading L'levalc's latest trilogy or continue with its short stories anthology."

_Dear Master Porrie. She's slightly more muddled now. What a difference fourteen standard years makes between her and her friend Jocasta Nu. Almost the same as betw-- _"Did she call you by your right name? Wait, she wouldn't mistake the Chosen One for any other Padawan."

"She lisped it, yes. Obi-Wan, please sit down."

"In a bit, Padawan. The meeting was energizing. Besides, I need the exercise." _Master Yoda said he may revise his thinking and Knight you sooner rather than later. I can't digest this yet. _"The mission may end the war. It's worth getting steamed up about."

_Meetings were easier on you when Master Yoda was more autocratic._ "I told you yesterday, you're not getting a paunch. But back to the meeting, so you had a larger voice in Council than usual? Did it turn into an argument?" There had been no banked flames of anger in the Force during the Temple's afternoon hush.

"It was loud but not rancorous. I like negotiating, so I didn't mind, and since our new Code, there's been plenty noise when we disagree. There were only a few fine tunings of Master Yoda's revision of the Code that we made." _Mace and I about attachments, mainly. It helped that he had heard your debate about them so long ago. _"You'll be in on the next meeting, make no mistake. We need input on how to conceal ourselves better on the _NabooExpress_ freighter. Something in your area of expertise on mechanics ought to do it."

"I could have foreseen it."

Obi-Wan whirled. "Vision?"

"Not about attending the meeting, but I had one on Olanet. You were falling. I couldn't catch you."

"Did I join the Force?"

_So calm. "_No. Well, I didn't See it, anyway."

Obi-Wan sat at last by Anakin's side. "I did fall, with Siri. We were plastered together after the gravity cut in and then after the gravity went out again, we clung together for dear life while we made our Force-bubble blanket."

"But the blanket was holey." _Mmmm. She didn't look after him._

"No, there wasn't time to fully form protection before the radiation hit -- "

"And your fall wasn't _quite_ a fall, either. It couldn't be, not in null-grav. It would be a float."

_I regret training him in negotiating basics. He's going for the fine points, but not all issues need to be argued. Sometimes a fall is just a fall._ Obi-Wan waggled a hand. "Part in gravity, part in null. Your point?"

"I mean -- " Anakin took the hand -- "that my vision showed you dropping in clear air, not on an orbital platform. So that means that an event like this is coming up." The _something_ saturated their room. Obi-Wan _had_ to notice. "But the only fall I want to think of is you into my arms." _I won't worry too much about it, because __**I**__ will be with you and __**not **__Master Tachi._

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Erm, yes, Anakin, but about the vision, we'll never force the Force's hand. We'll go insane picking every stray notion apart. The future -- "

" -- 'always in motion, it is.' Yes, I know." Anakin kissed Obi-Wan's knuckles.

_Does the Force even have hands? And could some outside, uh, force do to its hands what Anakin is doing to mine? _Anakin drew Obi-Wan firmly down beside him and Obi-Wan thought about resisting, but capitulated to the attractive _something. _They kissed as they had aboard the _Dubious Content_ until Anakin gasped into Obi-Wan's mouth, "I've missed you like this for _two solid years_." He couldn't stop touching Obi-Wan, running hot hands up and down and all around his torso.

"You've got me now." _Darling, slow down._

_I'm burning. _"Ohhh, yes, _now_ I've got y-- " Anakin didn't finish his sentence. With lips hot and sure, he kissed down the column of whiskered throat, sticking his tongue out to forge a path through the auburn forest, diving into the hollow at the notch of the throat. A pulse leaped there as he sucked in a riffle of skin and bit down, marking tender flesh. _Shouldn't show too much through the hairs_.

Obi-Wan quivered and pulled away. "Anakin, let's go to the gardens."

_Huh? "Now?"_

"I hear the desert plums are in bloom." Obi-Wan pulled his tunic back together, wiping wet off his beard with his sleeve after Anakin closed his eyes in disbelief.

_Desert plums, the ones from Tatooine that Fee has growing in the sandbox? _"Really? They are?" The aroma of desert plum blossoms accentuated all the senses. Jedi used them for rejuvenating those tired from battle, from negotiating, from what stresses the galaxy could bring to Force-sensitives. For three years, Knight Fee tended their growth, inviting all Jedi from the Temple grounds to the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim to refresh their spirits by inhaling the effluvium of desert plum blossoms. Those utilizing it walked with a lighter step on the Jedi path for days afterward. Anakin adjusted his leggings more comfortably after he sprang to his feet, eyes wide.

"Obi-Wan, excellent idea! And we can climb to the Satellite." The Satellite perched atop two zaela trees, aged four thousand twelve and four thousand fourteen years respectively. The treehouse named Satellite had first been built as a single platform between them, because zaelas were as attuned as two plants could be and swayed together always. Their needles' soughing soothed any listener and when the Satellite had been built, Knight Yoland Fee had been Padawan Fee, the Living Force made manifest. Padawan Fee grew the gardens, Padawan Jinn appreciated them. That was the way that things worked for season after season. After Naboo, no one had to tell Knight Fee of Qui-Gon's passing. Yoda, Obi-Wan and Anakin had found Fee kneeling in a seedbed upon the return from Naboo. Anakin was learning his place and said nothing even as he heard everything.

Fee didn't look up at their approach. "Jinn walks in the Force, doesn't he." It wasn't a question. Fee continued to delve and plant seedlings, covering the young roots tenderly with his trowel.

"Part of it, he is. Brave, he was. Mourn your friend not." Nonetheless, Yoda bowed his head.

"And he'll not walk through my garden, ever again."

Yoda sank his gimer stick in the loam next to Fee's filthy knees. "In everything, now he is." _A simple soul, Yoland Fee owns. The warrior-diplomat path, never for him could it be. _The four of them shared silence.

Obi-Wan couldn't speak through the lump at his throat at the time, but he remembered the day he, Anakin, Fee and Master Yoda had acknowledged Qui-Gon's passing in this very spot when the sandbox came into view in a declivity near the base of the towering zaela trees. Three members of the Bear Clan played in the sandbox, in the opposite corner from the desert plum plants. Normally, the bulbs resided beneath the surface of the area, but in late spring they gathered their strength to push stalks through the grainy pit and there they sprouted, six stalks, six blooms. The three Initiates scrambled to their feet and flippers and back paws.

"Councilor Kenobi, sir!" breathed Liam. He dug his foot into the sand.

"The Chosen One, ohhh!" whispered the other two in tandem.

_"Hello_ there," Obi-Wan said warmly. "May we join you?"

The three younglings stared at each other. "Yes?" Liam squeaked.

Anakin tightened his lips upon stepping in sand once more, but sat gamely on the edge of the retaining wall while Obi-Wan helped to construct a three-spired Temple in the sand. The five Jedi chatted until Master Ali-Anann shooed the Clan inside for their early dinner and storytime. Obi-Wan and Anakin eyed each other and dove for the blooms.

"Heady."

"Mmm. I feel great."

"Flameflower undertones, don't you think?"

"Yes, with roses on top of them." Obi-Wan pulled back._ I can take this scent in small doses. Must be my new midichlorian count. _"Let's climb."

They climbed the set-in steps grafted into the oldest thirty-five-meter-high tree trunk, spiraling up. Obi-Wan pointed out a snow falcon's nest near the top of their ascent, filled with peeping fuzzy chicks. They closed the hatchway beneath them and stood on the planking. A rim the width of Obi-Wan's hand was the only safeguard from the drop. Obi-Wan moved inwards across the radius of the round structure toward the elder tree's trunk. No one had been here in some time to clean. There were mounds of zaela needles everywhere, with a fragrant heap of them under an overarching branch. With feathery new needles growing on one gently swaying limb, the heap was fringed by a green curtain. It was an inviting bower. Obi-Wan sat down on it.

Anakin clasped his hands behind him as he looked out at the view of the sheltering Temple and then down to the greensward. "All the younglings are inside."

"Yes. Anakin, remember the joke that Siri told on the way to Naboo?"

_He's getting in the mood._ "There were so many -- "

Obi-Wan lay back on the needles, sending small bursts of repellent energy into the stingbeetles residing therein. Four of the biting creatures scuttled into the crack between the decking and the zaela tree's trunk and Obi-Wan relaxed completely. He crossed his arms beneath his head and admired the green-fringed view of the sky. "Two lovers, Haimmej and Natszyrk, shared quarters for years until Haimmej sickened. The Healers told them, 'I know you two love each other to the end of the galaxy, but you're going to have to cut out the lovemaking or Haimmej will die of exhaustion.' Haimmej and Natsyrk grumped and seesawed about it, but what could they do? They finally agreed and went home. Haimmej moved to the downstairs bedroom while Natszyrk slept upstairs alone. _Five weeks_ passed. One night -- '"

"It was a dark and stormy night," Anakin broke in, grinning.

Obi-Wan challenged, "So you do remember. All right, Padawan, finish it."

"That's an order?"

"One of many yet to come," Obi-Wan drawled.

"Oh. _Oh!_ One night, dark and stormy, it was, Haimmej felt her way _slooowly_ up the stairs. She met Natsyrk midway. 'What are you doing?' she asks. 'I'm on my way down to kill you,' he says. 'Kriff,' she says, 'I was on my way up to die!'"

"Ahahahahahaha. Haha. Ha. Come here, you." Obi-Wan leaned up on one elbow, beckoning with looks and words and outstretched hand and Anakin Force-leaped to his side, rolling both of them together until his longer form completely covered his Master's. With quick hands, Anakin skinned Obi-Wan out of uniform, Obi-Wan not lifting a finger. Obi-Wan watched as Anakin shucked off his own clothing. Sensing and now seeing Anakin's great need, Obi-Wan spread his legs. Anakin knelt between them, kissed Obi-Wan's opening hungrily and positioned himself.

"My knees have missed your ears," husked Obi-Wan.

Anakin chuckled. "You're simply full of pithy sayings this afternoon, Obi-Wan." He smoothed the unruly lock of hair from Obi-Wan's forehead, kissing the touch of gray sprouting from his temples. He didn't think he could love this man any more than yesterday, but he did.

"I want to be full of you."

"No sooner said than -- _uhn_ -- done."

Anakin commenced to move, gritting his teeth with the effort to control himself. Obi-Wan's flushed skin turned even redder with the zaela needles goading his back. They prickled and burned like small whips, small poking _fantastic _whips. Obi-Wan writhed against them to accentuate the sensations, crushing the needles together enough to send their pitchy aroma to his overloaded senses. Anakin had never been a blaster before, something more like a bubbling fountain, but today Obi-Wan's heightened midichlorian energy sense alerted him to the change. Obi-Wan drifted away with that realization.

It was beyond Anakin's strength to hold back anymore and as he sank further into Obi-Wan's hot depths, he lost all sense of time and even the Force. It was too solemn, too heartrendingly _right_ for them to be together in these gardens and he avoided breaking into tears by thinking of that silly joke. With his mechno-arm squeaking with the jolting power of his thrusts, he did manage to hold out for a few minutes. Then all went red, then black as he collapsed on top of Obi-Wan, who hadn't come at all.

"S-Sorry ... don't know what ... came over me ... "

Obi-Wan lay still, head to one side, arms limp, hair plastered to his forehead.

"Obi-Wan? _Master?"_ _He's not moving. I've killed him. _Irrational thought followed irrational thought as he slapped Obi-Wan's cheeks. _He was not all right I've killed him I only wanted us to be like on Trow or Tatooine or the first heady days when we first came back to the Temple __**why did he have to die**_

"Mmmm."

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin gathered Obi-Wan into his lap and buried his cheek against his chest, breathing in great relieved gasps.

"What ... so good ... must have blacked out ... " Obi-Wan allowed the galaxy to return him to his senses. _Whew. Must have been a combination of the desert plum blossoms and my accentuated midichlorians. Those needles were ... interesting._

_"Anakin."_

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I was overcome with your impetuosity, but then I wanted to be, so let go of me, darling." Obi-Wan patted Anakin's head reassuringly.

_Love nurtures, it doesn't possess. Right. _"Next time we'll prepare, we'll know better, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- "

**Knock-knock. **"Master Kenobi?" Zett Jukassa's voice cracked on the middle section of Obi-Wan's name. **Knock-knock. **The hatch opened a crack.

"Wait, Zett. One moment."

The soughing of zaela needles whited out scrambled sounds of rustling clothing and hurried whispers.

"All right, Zett."

"Sorry to interrupt," Zett greeted the two properly attired Jedi who regarded him benevolently. "Regards to you from Master Windu. He thought you might be up here. Would you please join him in the council chamber?"

_Meanwhile, on Byss ..._

The crystal shards became me nearly fourteen Standard hours after I was started. I was sentient, but not mobile. I didn't have a name until twenty-three hours after my beginning and I moved alone after thirty-one hours became thirty-two. I could see then. I pulled myself out of my growth tube five minutes after my sibling to my right did and five minutes before my sibling to my left. I stood at attention. My Maker addressed me. I strained to hear and make sense of his words.

"What is your designation?"

"Knife Eight." Yes, that was correct.

"And your purpose?"

"To kill."

"And?"

_What else was there?_ "To ... obey you."

"Better. At some point I may ask you to refrain from killing."

"By your command, Maker."

Grievous waved his favorite lightsaber over Knife Eight's platoon. The Spaarti cloning chamber hall glittered fiercely and he adjusted his eyes to compensate.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

_Guhhh ... the scent again ... ohhh ... _

"Obi-Wan, look out!" At the muddy base of the stately tree, Anakin saw Obi-Wan's face go momentarily blank six steps up from the ground, saw him miss the tread and fold over into midair. Anakin whirled, arms outstretched, catching his Master neatly at the shoulders and knees.

"Put me down this instant! I'm fine, simply a blast of the desert plum blooms wafted my way -- "

"It _was_ a fall in clear air and I _did_ catch you. This wasn't the incident in my Olanet vision. It couldn't be." Anakin wanted to upend Obi-Wan and shake him, but settled him back on his feet.

_You'll be the death of me._ "It was all of two meters! Anakin, if you continue to quibble over every interpretation of your vision, I'll, I'll -- "

Zett turned curiously at the tone in the Councilor's mellifluous voice.

" -- I'll spank you," Obi-Wan hissed under his breath. He smiled benignly at the younger Padawan. "Lead on, Zett."

With raised eyebrows and a smirk, Anakin followed Obi-Wan in proper Padawan place into the Temple and remained respectfully silent in the elevator up to the Council's spire. He was in such a good mood that he waved a cheerful goodbye to fellow Padawan Zett. Normally he felt aloof from the younger Padawans. It took Mace of the Windu's stern voice to dampen his amusement. Alone of the three occupants of the room, Anakin stood, arms folded in sleeves, heeding their next assignment.

"Gelgelar. The place with the swamps, riffraff, scum and villainy?" Obi-Wan sniffed. "And the noxious shvash gas?"

Mace sat with his back to the broad windows, his outline defined, his face in shadow. "Shvash gas that is coveted by the Separatists. Master Tholme is still gathering data on the reasons for its use. _They're_ interested in Gelgelar, _we're_ interested in Gelgelar. It's as simple as that." His voice held a smile. "And the capital, Gelgelar Free Port, is on dry ground, Obi-Wan. The only dry ground on the entire planet, probably. Battle droids could not operate in swamps, not unless they used STAPs, but perhaps a small percentage of their troops have such transportation. The cloud cover is such that Tholme's probe droids had difficulties with seeing anything."

"We'll not have much room to maneuver. The city covers nearly all the solid ground, I take it?"

"You'll learn the topography better in the formal briefing" -- Mace waved a datapad -- "but, yes. There are only two hundred fifty square kilometers of solidity in that particular part of Gelgelar. The hill city takes up a great deal of it, but there are some flatlands and a few hills on the fringe of the city with sparse tree cover. The glarsaur natives won't be looking for us, but the Quarren and other non-native peoples might. Not to mention the Separatist forces." Mace swiveled his chair towards Anakin and Anakin could see the new lines carved by cares near the Korun Master's eyes. The eyes were as rock solid as ever. "Padawan Skywalker, you might not run into sand on Gelgelar, but you might miss it."

Anakin did not know what to say, so he contented himself with a puzzled look.

"It's cold on Gelgelar, and gloomy, and moldy. Some hot sand might come as a relief."

"Master Windu, is this to be a clandestine mission?" _Small area in which to operate. We'll not establish a camp. _"I haven't gone undercover in a very long while." _Anakin, your scar will make you ripe for any pickings, bounty hunter, Separatist covert ops, anyone with a grudge against Jedi. Or against the Chosen One. _Obi-Wan thought of Dooku's lightsaber-skilled hands, the ones he was born with, visualized Anakin's mechno-hand and clenched his fists.

_We can't, neither of us, go incognito, not without makeovers. Obi-Wan'll refuse to get one. Won't he? _"Masters, undercover work isn't feasible -- "

" -- because of our famous faces, my Padawan notices, Mace. You might not be able to pass for anyone else, either, due to Jedi likenesses pasted onto holograms and puzzles and trading holocards."

"A downside to our latest merchandising, true. A price to pay for indirect methods of, of -- " Mace did not often fish for words.

"Skulduggery?" Anakin burst out.

Mace's mouth turned down at the corners. "I would not put Master Yoda's plan in such terms. This is war. We use subterfuge as well as direct combat." He paused. "'Chicanery,' perhaps, is a more appropriate word. I always thought the Troll was sneaky."

"Master Yoda deserves our respect, Mace." Obi-Wan held Mace's gaze.

"But not our worship." Mace was firm on that point. "This makes you uncomfortable, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I agree with the Troll's plan. I and my Padawan are ready to implement it in one month. Is this interim mission expected to be more than one week?" _Shouldn't think so._

Mace shook his head "One week is all we can afford for you to be gone." _I'd pick you for this mission, Councilmember or no. You have the air of command. You'd have to develop it, to control Skywalker all these years. Never have I ever seen such a -- "_Padawan, you and your Master will be accompanying a cadre of defecting misfit clones. The cover story is that you'll have joined the group on the fly, hanging onto command protocol by a thread. The Republic is recruiting non-clone officers lately, so you'll fit in. Disguises for you both, Commander Plumb and Captain Alapmi." He handed Obi-Wan the briefing datapad.

"I'm demoted. I understand." Obi-Wan turned on his heel. "You have tenure on the Council. I do not." He halted at the doors. shooting over his shoulder, "Will this disguise involve liposuction?" but Mace only looked inscrutable. It was a stretch from appearing indestructible, as he generally did.

xxxxxxxxx

_Is there something about the Outer Rim that invites delays? Tatooine or Gelgelar, Elrood Sector or Airam Sector, here we are, two weeks after our planned pullout date._ Obi-Wan shuffled along the chow line in Red Threxa's Boarding House. Mild-tempered for a Saurton, Red operated a fifteen-cred-per-night establishment next to the Shrine of Kooroo, and except for three pilgrims, Obi-Wan and Anakin and the five clones had the run of the place. Two hours ago, while evading a pilgrim's sincere effort to convert him to his faith, Obi-Wan had sidled into the rain-drenched alley, intending to slosh his way to the Slippery Gelgelar Eel cantina across the street. It so happened that he was the first to spot the encroaching fog of shvash gas as it billowed in on the wind. Dashing back inside to warn Red, Obi-Wan was too late; the shoddy pre-fab building's open windows' repulsors were set to 'rain,' not 'rain and fog.' The miasma inundated all porous surfaces on their street before moving along, nauseating humans slightly but making no impact on the golden-scaled Saurton or the red-and-black patterned Glarsaurs. Red, who lived in fear of his species' ability to carry dangerous bacteria to others, had insisted on laundering all his boarders' outer garments immediately, free of charge for the sake of business goodwill. As renegade Republic officers newly without salary, Obi-Wan and Anakin made a show of commanding their clones to comply with the generous offer. After three weeks of acting disgruntled in mufti, the Jedi's and the clones' thespian abilities were up to the challenge.

"You'll do it and like it," snarled Obi-Wan to ARC6754, who managed a glare at his black-haired Captain that would have blistered a sarlaac. Obi-Wan jerked a thumb at Anakin, who stood apart with folded arms, sneering at his so-called troops. "Or I'll sic the Commander on you." With a few more pointed looks, the clones threw their jumpsuits at Red and huddled around the central heating unit. It was an act that could not have passed muster for the Padawan Follies, but it sufficed to convince any onlookers that they were a group held together by little more than habit.

_The Shvash Gas Cooperative operator seems shifty to me, but his aura shows only a deep sense of commitment to something beyond himself. That something is Kooroo worship._ From passing out holotracts to each member of the Jedi group to leaving his primitive comm unit on to stream religious programming, Vleen Argoe's office and the Glarsaur himself exuded singlemindedness as had few in Obi-Wan's experience. In a forest of shvash gas tanks that echoed in size the obelisks and standing stones of the fabled Shrine, the mobile office was barely large enough to hold a Glarsaur, so Obi-Wan had interviewed Argoe alone in the guise of looking for employment every other day for three weeks, dodging Argoe's swinging tail when necessary. When Argoe turned his attention on Obi-Wan, Anakin and the clones wandered the lot, seemingly curious about its technology, but actually looking for clues.

Obi-Wan was next for the drink table when a brainstorm hit him. He reached up a hand to stroke a non-existent beard, then switched the movement to scratch the black curls behind his ears. The disguise was beginning to annoy him._ The Shrine? Could something be in the Shrine? _In the guise of soldiers with too much time on their hands, his group had toured the Shrine, giving Anakin and himself a headache in the process. The Shrine reflected Force-sensitives' feelings back to them, confusing Obi-Wan no end when Anakin's remembrances of Padme bounced between them along their imprinting-enhanced bond. They had observed the Shrine's three levels of enormous rooms, doors, untranslated hieroglyphics and holograms, nodding in the right places at their guide's commentary. Obi-Wan had placed the Shrine on his list of historic places he'd not prefer to return to, but wouldn't a Shrine be a perfect place to conduct clandestine activities? Worshippers engrossed in spiritual pursuits, forbidden by custom to be too curious to unusual sounds? Or perhaps they would attribute the sounds to the mysterious Kooroo, though most thought the entity was a figurehead useful only to bilk payment out of the faithful. Obi-Wan poured himself a Corellian ale.

It felt off the Jedi charts to be thus unclad in the chow line, especially since Anakin was pretending to be female. Luckily, his group were the only humans in Gelgelar Free Port, but even here citizens knew that regulations regarding hair differed for the sexes in the service. _It's worth the discomfort to protect my braid, the braid that I've slaved for for nearly fourteen years and will soon lose. Let it be soon_. Anakin pressed his arms to his ribs, willing the left breast not to slip again. Red might insist upon laundering their outer clothing, but the sheer informality of his attire bothered Anakin. He noticed that Obi-Wan had lost none of his composure, way up there near the front of the line. Of course. It took more than walking around in his onesy to rattle him. The clones' undergarments, all the same neat tight knits, were of two pieces, and the men had disposed of their tops in the heating unit's over-efficiency, leaving four pairs of bobbing buttocks stretching ahead of Anakin in the line. Broad muscular backs, all with the same tanned shade of skin, had scars dotting them with distinguishing marks. One clone had had a strip of skin flayed from his waist that showed fresh bacta-pink with a layer of synthflesh slathered on. The man reached around to dig at the shiny synthflesh, scratching as the medtechs instructed them: with the knuckles, no fingernails. Anakin rubbed his scar's covering makeup unconsciously. Yes, synthflesh itched as everything beneath it healed. He caught himself and lowered his hand._ Or not. Shuffle along, Anakin._ The usual lunch crowd swelled the line with non-boarders, which meant the servers worked doubletime. To have something to do, Anakin ran a self-diagnostic from the inside out: Mood? So-so. Three weeks here with no progress frustrated them all. Senses? He closed his eyes and stretched out. Fine, all clones as one relaxed, yet maximally prepared unit, Obi-Wan's imprinted glow a lamp in Anakin's window of existence. Anakin smiled faintly as he continued his journey inward. Internal physicality? A faint echo of his back injury from Olanet, nothing to worry about. His outward shape? Somewhat ... out of synchronization. He opened his eyes and shifted the plastene tray to his right hand, skimming the left from waving false hair interwoven with his braid to scrupulously shaven chin to padded chest and then belly. Through the undergarment's thin weave, he felt something. Anakin pinched his nearly flat navel and pulled it out as far as he could. There, flab. Yes, there was an eight or perhaps nine-millimeter-thick roll of flab there, despite all this training since prepubescence. The navel itself had none, of course, but around it he palpated a ring of positive sponginess. His mood plummeted. They were both getting a paunch. The toasty togetherness of it all didn't warm him inside like he thought it should.

Anakin was up to the steamtables now. He grabbed utensils, condiment packets, a napkin, Ando baguettes to make his own sandwiches. He poked through the cooler, choosing a drink and perusing the cooler's contents as quickly as possible to avoid backing up the line. Time marched on, bringing physical changes, even for a Jedi, he thought._ Too much cheese, Oh-Most-Senior-Padawan. __**But it's delicious.**__ Too much is ... too much.__** All right, all right. Once a week, then.**__ You can do better. __**Every two weeks?**__ Every three weeks.__** I'll accept that. For now. **__You're too kind. _Anakin replaced the spray container of Neonan red cheese in the cooler. The fifth clone directly behind him seized it, grinned at him and placed a tiny disciplined smear on his cracker. Anakin jerked a smile back to him and moved along to the plain vegetable tub. He silenced his inner debater by piling on a large heap of yot beans onto his messplate, then defiantly added a knob of butter to the serving. As it drooled down the beans in a melting lava flow, Anakin smirked at himself. _Got you._ His conscience had better things to do, apparently, because it kept its mouth shut. He found a place with ARC6754 and some others, joining in easily. Obi-Wan did the same at another table. Mingling with the troops, good to get some away-time from Obi-Wan, all the better to have fuel for conversation._ If only this mission were going better ..._

_Meanwhile, back on Coruscant ..._

_"Separate_ from our everyday lives, our faith in the Force is, Padme. Dependent on traditions, yes, our Order is, but _separate_ from the Force itself. That leaves each being free to interpret, as the Force gives each being to interpret, all the ways of the Force." Yoda extended each claw in turn in a luxurious stretch. _Too rich for her intellect still, the ways of the Dathomiri and other Force-sensitive groups. In her, I find youth and simplicity again._

Padme couldn't suppress a sigh. "Lately, I'm thinking that if the state and the Force were combined, our everyday lives would run much smoother." She turned on her side. "Yoda, don't you think the same, at least sometimes?"

Yoda closed his eyes to consider it. "No. Separate, the Force and the state should remain." He propped himself up with an elbow, tapping his forehead into Padme's. She didn't return his smile. "A theocracy, you would have the Republic? What would our Supreme Chancellor say?"

_He's in a dither about impregnating Breha. He's not thinking longterm, except for that._ "Bail is dedicated to ending the war. He is fully behind our plan, Yoda, but I'm wondering lately if he has a thought for preventing further wars of secession. If the CIS is defeated -- "

" -- _when _they are defeated -- "

" -- yes, yes, I think that Bail will be content to have everything the same as it was before the war. Committees, commissions, what have you." Padme pulled her sweaty hair away from her neck to lay the mass straight up from the pillow. "I know this sounds odd coming from a lifelong politician like me, but I don't get a sense of progress with him. He has personal concerns pressing him, as well."

Yoda had heard rumors of Bail's unsuccessful efforts to add to his family. Padme contained eggs, Yoda knew, but couldn't actually lay them. Yoda would be spared the boredom of sharing the dutiful task of nesting on a clutch. The aged Master breathed a brief meditation of thanksgiving over interspecies sex and went on pressing his point with the Vice-Chancellor in a gentlemanly manner. _Vice. _He refrained from displaying a recent tendency to cackle. His sense of humor had sunk to a new low, he mused. Perhaps living in the post-Jedi Code revision galaxy did not suit him as well as he thought. "Vice-Chancellor, kindly meet me halfway in your thoughts. Proposing a liaison between us _more_ than what already exists?" He traced a rib. "Because now you know how _powerful_ the Force can be, for personal good?"

Padme rolled away. "No, not because of _that_. Because I'm looking more towards the future, I guess. Years into the future, for me and for you."

"Always in motion, is the future." Yoda prepared himself for sleep. "Look not too hard, dizzy, it will make you."

_We're not on the same page. I'll close the datapad, for now. _Padme dreamed of being elected Supreme Chancellor that night.

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

So this is the secret of the Shrine of Kooroo, Obi-Wan thought as the nearer of two dripping, glowing things emerged from the water and grabbed his left ankle, dangling him above the flat black pond. "Some kind of gripvine. Watch out!" Quicker than Sith lightning, the phosphorescent plant flung putrid loops about the clones and their Jedi commanders.

Anakin had cast about with both inborn and Jedi-developed Force senses as they had breached the third and lowest level of the Shrine on their twenty-second day on Gelgelar, only to have Force-feedback echoes blur his mind. _Do. Or do not._ So he did not, becoming just a man straining his senses unaided. In the torch-lit gloom, it was the purling scent of rotting vegetable matter that assaulted first Jedi noses and then their clones'.

"Phew!" exclaimed ARC6754. "That's rank!" And then upheaval ripped their underground world, tough ropes imprisoned waists and arms and ankles. Seven beings were picked up and shaken, five were discarded.

Anakin's long hair, natural and extensions, attracted the plant's startling kineticism. Rooting as rapidly as a doiseybird could fly, palps as thick as a clone's wrist encircled his shoulders while their roothairs, literally pulsing with life, wove into the lattice of Anakin's hair. Even the feathers on the belt that Anakin wore to accentuate his femininity and disguise his lack of a woman's waist acted as a matrix for sticky, pasty-white suckers. Soon he couldn't wriggle so much as a booted toe.

"If they," an inverted Obi-Wan panted, "are like gripvines ... they are more mobile in their breeding ... season ... "

"Who isn't?" Anakin groped for his lightsaber in his suit's inner neckline pocket, but failed as the roothairs took hold. The lightsaber at least worked, even if the guiding Force of his life led him in too many directions down here. He grimaced when the roothairs' stickiness throbbed next to his skin as they penetrated the weave of his clothing. The main vine squeezed his shoulders harder and harder. His jumpsuit's sleeves tangling his arms, his head wrenched backwards by its hair, he looked to Obi-Wan struggling above him.

"I'm coming, Padawan!" But by now Obi-Wan was equally ensnared and even though his nerf-hide boots' porosity was less than his jumpsuit's, he was immobilized by the slithering suckers except for his left arm. He fumbled out his own lightsaber with two fingers, switched it on but dropped it as the next shake rattled his teeth. The blue glow sank into the pond's murk.

"Hold your breath, Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted as the glowvine enveloped the young man's jumpsuit with the precious body inside and dark water closed over Anakin's head. With Obi-Wan's shout came an angry ripple from the palp and it flourished Obi-Wan as might a cheerleader its pompom at the Galactic Games. He saw Anakin's chest heave, but the vine constricted his torso too much for a deep inhalation. Jedi breath control would have to help, Obi-Wan thought as he was cracked to and fro. _But can he do it in this kriffing muddled place_? Whipped upright and then dunked himself into the waters, Obi-Wan's own situation was dire.

ARC6754 picked himself up as the Jedi disappeared beneath churning waves, Obi-Wan's white fingertips the last part that he saw. "Did you ... notice that the _vegetable _went straight for them?"

ARC397 massaged his bruised throat. "What next?" he croaked.

"What we were made for." The five needed no further words.

_No gripline -- make do. _ARC26194 anchored one hand to a waist-high stalagmite.

_Dampened hand-to-hand contact -- I miss my traction-grip gauntlets. _ARC1830 grabbed his brother's extended hand and reached out his own.

_I hate swimming. _ARC397 plunged into the pond.

_I can see the lightsaber's glow from here._ ARC68134 clamped on.

_Can't reach the Jedi -- the thing has gotten them too far from the edge. _ARC6754 did what all his training and inclination told him not to; he broke the chain with his brothers. He splashed ten steps further into the hip-high water, ducked his head under to ensure he grabbed the hilt and not the business end of the lightsaber and dove for the drop off point one step beyond. The Jedi and the bulbous translucent glowvine base formed one pale shimmer six meters down. _This weapon is like a vibro-shiv, yes, aim it like a spear, no, when I close with the thing I'll hack with both hands. _ARC6754, known familiarly as Six, cursed his reduced kit as he slowly, deliberately, inserted his rebreather. _Plan your work, work your plan. Make do._ The thing's two palps were inserting the Jedi in a slit leading to a cavity inside the four-meter-in-diameter body whose greenish, almost-clear mantle sheltered round things that looked like seeds. _It wants them for ... fertilizer? No, I won't let you! _He kicked powerfully downward.

_Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope._ Anakin's sight dimmed further as the burning spread from lungs to stomach to throat. Compressed with the embrace of vine and stiffened clothing and inert hair, his next convulsion flexed his head nearly hard enough to break his own neck. His control waning to a bleak desire to breathe, to open his mouth and gasp in the water that would drown him, one final event claimed his attention. Something blue-white flashed, yes, a lightsaber, boiling bubbles with slashing strokes in no Form that he recognized and he did not care because the main glowvine released his shoulders. The roothairs were severed by the abruptness of the move, leaving their immobilizing woven surfaces in place as the semi-sentient plant pulled him back through the slit by one foot, releasing his irritating presence. _Now I know why I don't wear all the clones' armor if this is how they feel most of the time. _He floated, body stiff, head thrust backwards._ If only I weren't so tired ... _The galaxy grayed out.

Slightly better off, Obi-Wan felt Anakin's grip on life loosen through their muddied bond. _No, I won't let you! There is another way to survive this, there is another ... _Before the plant could make a move other than to release its grip on his ankles, there was a bubbling blade of blue that cut open the plant's midsection and a hand grabbed his collar to pull him through the gap. Obi-Wan struggled in his own stiffened clothes, then an exquisitely wielded lightsaber flicked from bootheel to waist to sleeve to neckline and down the other side, bisecting his entire outfit. The same hand pulled the front half away from him and Obi-Wan kicked the rest of his body free before grabbing for his lightsaber. In Obi-Wan's weakened state, it was possible for Six to keep it from him.

_He's running out of air and he __**will**__ forget about breathing for himself while his partner is in trouble oh __**no**__ you don't General Kenobi. _A concussion wave slapped Six as another brother dove to join the battle. Six pulled the Jedi to him and jammed the rebreather between his lips. The Jedi finally seemed to see sense and they buddy-breathed over to the General's partner's suspended form. A trooper was already there performing the same breathing maneuver, trying with no success to straighten the Commander's neck. _Can't see you well enough to know your name, brother, but that doesn't matter. You came through for them._

_You see, Anakin, there __**was**__ another. I'll have no more about you dying. _Obi-Wan squeezed Six's hand in gratitude as he took back his lightsaber. _I dropped it, I dropped it, sorry, Master Qui-Gon._ Anakin's eyes fluttered open and he jerked a thumbs-up to Obi-Wan after a while. Obi-Wan denuded Anakin of his strangling clothes and hair extensions, leaving the braid in place after an agonized look from the Padawan. The braid he prised away from the freed wad of clothing with deft strokes, any amputated roothairs still alive twitching for purchase anywhere, anyhow. Anakin's dislodged breasts bobbed to the surface as Obi-Wan retrieved Anakin's lightsaber for him, for once unable to lecture about absentmindedness. With Six's and ARC397's help, the two rose away from this dark tomb.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Don't be like Adi, Anakin. Not everything deleterious to our health is of the Dark Side," Obi-Wan said half an hour later. "We were most likely its only nutrient source for its seeds in days. You've noticed how it is the slow season for pilgrimages. We would have made an enormous difference to the seeds' development."

"Next you'll be feeling sorry for it."

_No. That was Qui-Gon's territory. _"Not at all. Simply understanding without condoning."

Away from the Shrine, the Force flowed as smoothly as it ever did over Anakin as he trudged through bracken behind Obi-Wan in a light rain. He had stopped shivering fifteen minutes ago. "When we get to the redan, I'll run an analysis on this whatever-it-is." Apart from a disturbing sense of a Force-signature of either a Dark Side user or a Jedi which their befuddled minds could not differentiate, the only worthwhile result of their trip to the Shrine was a palm-sized metal shape that ARC397 had spotted by the pond's edge. Its bottom showed a grooved male protrusion, obviously meant to fit inside a female receptacle. Its top formed a stylized Grek, incised with irregular lines, their pattern resembling mudcracks that had baked in the sun. _It doesn't get sunny much out here. This must be a rare and precious design to anyone familiar with Gelgelar's gloom. _Anakin couldn't wait to reach technology and fresh clothing.

To establish their backstory, their small transport remained at Loro Ecls' starport, but Obi-Wan's circumspection was such that he insisted on caching macrobinoculars and other gear that didn't comport with a hasty departure from Republican forces. There was also a stash of food and clothing in the disguised redan that the clones had constructed in an astonishingly small amount of time. The curving structure perched on a small rise overlooking the starport. It was fashioned from leafy bushes and bits of driftwood and could conceal all of them comfortably while one warrior at a time observed the starport through a slitted viewport. On the days when they weren't playing out-of-work soldiers, they came here to spy.

The mood remained as gray as the weather as the clones prepared for departure from Gelgalar and the Jedi clad themselves in their regular tunics and leggings. Obi-Wan rubbed the hair restorer over his scalp. It tingled as it restored his hair to its original shade and texture. _I'm not looking forward to reporting to the Council. We've added to the general mystery, not diminished it. A piece of metal, an obscured Force-signature, plus a shard of crystal that the Analysis droids are still working on. Well, that's probably unrelated. _Anakin dressed quickly, scratched off his makeup and dove for the rudimentary analyzing equipment inside the redan. _Hmmmph. Always on the move._ Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders, stretching out his hamstrings at the same time. It was peaceful out here, away from the boarding house's lunchtime throng. _Their beds were all right, no pests, Threxa amiable enough and ... uh. Just got dressed and now I need to use the latrine. Too much good food on Gelgelar, Obi-Wan._ Obi-Wan crawled into the redan and undid his leggings' laces and zigzagged them back up again, easing in more fullness to allow him to squat down comfortably next to Anakin's observation post. _You are, too, getting a paunch, I don't care what Anakin says. _There was a puffiness in his lower abdomen and a small ache there and in his back. He flung out a pulse of self-healing and relieved everything a little. His headache and heartburn subsided, too. Anakin sensed his unease and lowered his analyzer to raise a scarred eyebrow. Obi-Wan motioned off any concerns with a dismissive flip of his wrist. "Paper?" he signed in Jedi silent code. It couldn't hurt to be cautious.

Anakin nodded in quick understanding and handed him his own stash of personal tissues, the last from his belt pouch. Obi-Wan wriggled on his belly out the exit of the redan to the squad's designated latrine behind a bush with sheltering pale leaves that huddled below the skyline. He viewed the whole necessary trip with stoicism tinged with distaste, but there it was: he was human, not Neti like T'ra Saa, and needed to release waste. While staring down at his pooled leggings, balancing himself with one hand on a knee as he pulled apart his dropseated undergarment with the other, he admired the wispy purple grass that surrounded the circular hole that the clones always dug so perfectly. Obi-Wan cleared his mind of all discomfort. He and Anakin were together again, as close as they had been on Trow, and all would be well. He lost himself in the sensation of anticipating happiness as his body did what it needed to do. When he came back to himself and cleaned up, an unusual feeling made him examine Anakin's wad of donated tissues before dropping it into the latrine. He gasped at the bloody smear on it. _An aftereffect of the drenching pond or the all-over invasion of the roothairs? _Obi-Wan shivered at the memory. _Or could it be spore sickness or spleen-rot from that last time I was on Drongar? Kriff, am I in battle and was there a shrapnel burst just now and am I deaf and shocky and failing to notice a hole __**punched through my gut? **_He jerked his head up to search the small bit of green sky through the cloudcover, nearly over-balancing and falling backwards into ordure, but no flare of artillery, no stench of ozone, no rumble of explosions assailed the hillside. In fact, a peaceful, easy feeling flowed in the Force, Nature coursing as it ought, nothing at all out of the ordinary. Clones and Anakin and even himself were in tune with the Force, as he had sensed three weeks ago when they had built their redan in this particular spot. There was even a small advantage that the Force showed him, an extra sense of peace that had eased his and Anakin's pillow talk last night. His body was doing something it had never done before, but the sense of rightness persisted.

Obi-Wan shrugged, dropped the tissues and refastened his clothing. Luminara would figure it out. Or Stass. Or dear Bant. He missed Bant's steady caring suddenly in a burst of emotion that shot to a peak and then plunged to a very deep valley. It had been two years since their schedules had coincided enough for them to see each other, and the little notes and keepsakes they left in each other's quarters did not seem enough anymore. Her silvery eyes would fill, she would enfold him in a supple embrace as she did when they were unpledged Initiates worrying about being accepted as Padawans and he would be at peace. As he slithered back to the redan, he wondered at his nostalgia. He took a moment to center himself before facing his command. The clones would have such memories, he thought, but at an accelerated pace. _Like my horror vids on quickplay._

The tension in the redan slapped him in the face. Anakin's spine was rigid, his posture as stiff as in the pond and the clones mirrored his attention. Obi-Wan knelt by his Padawan. Wordlessly, Anakin handed him the macrobinoculars. Obi-Wan hissed as the focus adjusted to his eyesight. A MagnaGuard strode to Ecls' tatty speeder, the Sullustan officiously offering to hold the electrostaff while the droid arranged its Kaleesh war robes before climbing in the vehicle. The MagnaGuard declined with harsh words, Obi-Wan guessed, because Ecls' sad face turned even sadder. Ecls gunned the speeder and took off for the main part of town.

_Meanwhile, back in the Temple Lab ..._

"Metamethylduracobamite."

"What, sir?"

Plo Koon handed ARC5231 a lozenge. "It's sort of an enhanced vitamin. Put these under your tongue. Don't chew."

The trooper sucked the three pills, slowly, carefully. Plo busied himself with taking notes, nearly reporting every breath from the man with the clean-shaven head.

ARC2813 entered the lab every day at this time, regularly as the sunrise. In fact, the sun had risen forty minutes ago. ARC2813 tiptoed next to his brother, questioning the two of them with raised brows that were as thick as they were at his deployment three years ago. ARC5231 continued sucking.

_"Future, Perfect" litany, here we go now, chant with me. _Plo wished that he had lips to smile with when he saw ARC5231's lips curve upwards.

"Take off for flight and

Take off for cares dis-per-singggg

Make way for the dawn."

"Lift me up where I can breathe free!" Plo shouted the response. He handed ARC2813 four lozenges and picked up his datapad.

TBC


	33. Chapter 33

_IG series. New look to it, no carbon scoring on its armor, intact cloak. _Obi-Wan lowered his macrobinoculars as Ecls' speeder shot away. _A MagnaGuard without Grievous. They are independent of him, at least enough to kill Jedi per Dooku's orders. Or Grievous' orders, maybe. _"Six, you and the rest of the squad head for the starport. Go to Ecls and say you're moving on because there's no work available. Put it out that you've had it with us officers and give the impression that you've done us in out here in the hinterlands, if he gets inquisitive. You know, act casual. If the MagnaGuard joins in with any comments, so much the better."

"And where will you be, sir?" _Acting, I hate acting._

_"_The Commander and I won't be far, listening. Here" -- Obi-Wan handed Six an onychotransponder which Six slipped under a fingernail -- "this will make your nails look dirty, but you're scruffy characters, right?"

"Sir, the shuura doesn't fall far from the tree, sir." Six grinned. "Pick you up here?"

"We'll see how it all plays out. The MagnaGuard may recruit you. Let him. We'll send for an extraction team for ourselves, if necessary." _The terentatek mission begins in a few days. Its potential is greater than this mission and I'm delegating its conclusion to you._

"How should we act scurrilous about your whereabouts?"_ I know my motivation, but my technique, um ..._

Anakin broke in. "This is the security chip for the transport. Normally, only an officer would have one. Flash it, give him a look and a wink and that ought to do it." _Take it and May The Force Be With You. _Six saluted, motioned to the others and departed.

Anakin went back to analyzing the metal shape while Obi-Wan fiddled with their communications array. Anakin had just completed a metallurgical analysis when the array chimed.

"Old Folks' Home to Vohis Mold. Old Folks' Home to Vohis Mold. Respond." It took Tholme's odd sense of humor to select the planet's odoriferous exported mold that some benighted citizens used as a spice as their mission's code name.

"Vohis Mold here."

"Problems?"

"Things are looking up. Should be leaving today." _Stars willing._

"I've been _Troll_ing for what you've _want_ed, but _you_ can _return_ the limited edition scramball players' holocards if they don't suit. I got _gas_ last night from that _deadly_ dull restaurant you like so much, thanks a bunch. I'll _never let it touch _my lips again."

"So sorry, you delicate thing. We'll make it up to you, in any number of ways." _Master Yoda wants us to return, yes, we're working on that, Tholme. Shvash gas is deadly, perhaps in large quantities when used as a contact irritant or vesicant agent?_

_I have a playful side, Kenobi._ "You bet you two will. I've been _freezing_ at night without you to snuggle between."

_Balls. There's an image I can do without, Spymaster. You'd likely have spycams __**everywh**_ -- "I can hardly wait to _okay_ your every whim, Th-- I mean, Home."

"I'm looking forward to it. Old Folks' Home, out."

Anakin put down his tools and stood up to stretch as much as he could towards the ceiling that the clones built automatically to their own smaller proportions. "So shvash gas acts as an asphyxiant due to freezing respiratory passages, is that it?"

"Seems that way. The Separatists could combine shvash gas with those sonic nanobot screamers we saw on Olanet to create a devastating area effect weapon Some downlevel residents use similar dangerous gases as recreational euphorics, I believe." _And am I relieved your extra-Temple forays did not lead you into such beings, Padawan mine._

_There are worse things out there, sweetheart, but I'll not enlighten you. _"Flirp-caackle."

"Eh? Oh, here comes something, Anakin." Obi-Wan handed over a duplicate earbud to share their surveillance.

' -- and we're up a black hole if we don't find work soon.' Six's voice portrayed equal measures of desperation and begging.

'You're paid up on your storage fees until seventh hour tonight, spacer.' Ecls' statement sounded like a warning.

' -- _hsss -- _you _look_ technologically educated, clone.' Its speculative algorithms are working overtime, thought Obi-Wan.

'Better than anyone else you'll find onplanet, _droid_.'

There was a sharper hiss from a simulated set of vocal cords. 'Leave us, Ecls. Get the next shipment of replacement tunnel diodes loaded immediately. Milord Dooku grows impatient.'

'I-It's not my fault they keep needing replacing in that kriffing Force-guarded monstrosity on Coruscant, they weren't meant for anything other than healthful aids for Glarsaurs in the rainy season, why oh why did I ever leave Sullust, this is _not_ worth it -- '

'Do what the droid _says_, Ecls.' _Menacing, very impressive, Six. _Obi-Wan gave a thumbs-up to Anakin.

There were shuffling sounds, hurried footsteps and the _hrmmmch_ of a door cycling shut.

'So, clone, you're not cowards, you're smart, you're seeing which way the wind blows in this war. Milord Dooku can use you. Meet me at my ship in half an hour, if you're game.'

'What about our ship?' _You're thinking about your Jedi commanders, Six, never mind us. Obi-Wan and I will be fine._

'Think of it as trading up, clone. The Sullustan will part it out soon enough. It's quite a _common_ vehicle.' There were some more snide insults about their serviceable starcraft from the sophisticated bit of machinery, but the Jedi had heard enough.

"I hope the transponder stays put longer than the last time we used one. We'll leave on the feed as a precaution, Obi-Wan, and tag it for silence until our extraction keyword, here, let me do it." Anakin plied his skills in the total concentration that Obi-Wan loved about him. With their plans coming to fruition and trusting in the resourcefulness of Six and his brothers, Obi-Wan and Anakin hefted all that they would pack into their transport in a heap, settling down to wait for darkness and the ensuing sneak into the starport before Ecls started dismantling their vehicle. With the pragmatism typical of the Sullustan commercial instincts, Anakin wouldn't put it past Ecls to lie about seeing himself and Obi-Wan joining the clones' recruitment with the MagnaGuard. He tucked the metal shape inside his robe's inner pocket, thinking about the clones and the metal mystery.

"'Force-guarded monstrosity on Coruscant'? What else could it be except the Temple?"

"Exactly, Padawan. Which is why we'll need the feed sent to a file." Obi-Wan rubbed his back. "I didn't know this going in, but the squad's extraction may not come for a long while."

"If ever, you mean. Have we sent them to their deaths?" _I had a mother, no father. They had a father, no mother. We're related, in a way._

_Grim necessities, be glad you're not a general, young one. _"If it ends like that, they'll not have been the first." He clapped a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "The feed is on, the tag is set to listen for 'Vohis Mold,' and it's dark now. Let's go."

"All right. I'm done with this simple analyzer, anyway. This metal thing is common durasteel underneath a gilded cover, it's etched with one Aurebesh letter for meaning or maybe simply decor, it's meant to fit into something." He crawled out of the redan after Obi-Wan, yearning to look up and see stars, but Gelgelar's gloom prevented him from being inspired. He took the lead down the hill. "I could use a lantern right about now."

Obi-Wan followed Anakin's imprinted glow as it revealed itself in his mind. "You're almost as good as a lamp to _me_, An-- " _Gilded. Decor. Lantern. Lamp. Fit into something. _"A finial?"

"'A finial?' What's a finial?"

"It's an architectural term for a decorative piece on top of a pillar or something else upright, but in this case I believe the metal shape fits on top of a lamp to secure its shade, therefore it's a finial."

Anakin brushed aside a piece of bracken dripping with dew. "Okay, it's fair to assume that any Gelgalar resident would adore anything that brings light here, be they imported Sullustan like Ecls or Saurton like Threxa or native Glarsaur -- " _Lamp. Glarsaur. Regork. Temple. Regork's a Glarsaur and he has a therapeutic heatlamp in his office, in our Temple --_

"Home," Anakin said together with Obi-Wan. They commenced to run.

_Meanwhile, back on Coruscant ..._

_Fish and visitors stink in three days, and I've pushed myself on Cousin Padme for nearly two months. _"I'm leaving tomorrow, Cousin. I can't begin to tell you how much I've enjoyed our visit. You're, you're a wonderful hostess and a marvelous tour guide, I've imposed -- "

"Oh, you have _not, _Enri Etolini. I've gotten to know you and you remind me so much of home, that, that -- " Padme pushed her punko eggs around on her breakfast plate and dribbled her swig of muja juice down her chin. Enri dabbed the liquid away from her jaw and nightwear bodice. "Pardon me, Cousin, I'm clumsy this morning for some reason," Padme said, smiling into his amused brown eyes.

"I should think you'd be pleased to get rid of me." Enri's amusement reached his wide mouth. "I'm a hick, compared to everyone I've met here."

"You're a breath of fresh air, is what you are." Padme took his damp napkin from him. "Everyone tells me how poised you are, how charming and polite you are at receptions ... " _Erk. He's your cousin. Don't lead him on._

_She's nice and such an accomplished liar. It goes with her job. _"Hardly going to say otherwise to you, now are they?"

"I like having you around. You're normal and pleasant company and" -- _Force-blind, like me -- "_as long as you don't have a pressing need to return to Naboo or a relationship, why not stay?"

_We could be fraternal twins in looks, why haven't I noticed that before? _"True, the Glitannai Esplanade has its charms and the Manarai Mountains I'd like to see in summer, perhaps along with another trip to the Skydome Botanical Gardens, perhaps indulge in their desert plum blossoms perfume before the blossoms fade until next year ... well ... all right, you've talked me into it." He laughed. "I'm easy."

_Are you?_ "You're _right." _At his uplifted eyebrow, Padme realized her error. "Not 'you're right,' as in, 'I agree with you,' but 'you're morally right,' you understand." They finished their meal in silence.

Enri rose first, standing behind Padme to rub her shoulders. "Cousin, I'm pleased to provide the comfort of family to a Vice-Chancellor. I've known it all my life in Varykino and it's a fine thing to discover it here on Coruscant, with you." _She's what I'd call a 'kissing cousin,' but not going there --_

"Your Excellency, your father on your private audio-only frequency." Threepio handed the comm over and walked out of the breakfast room with his new muted steps. Anakin had readjusted more than a few things after the droids' last stay in-Temple.

Padme leaned back into Enri's capable hands. "Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, Your Excellency." Ruwee's sturdy voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "Not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No. It's your usual monthly chat, right?"

"Won't be long this morning. The university's gotten into the idea of having breakfast power meetings."

"Power? At this hour? What do the meetings entail?" Padme suppressed a moan when Enri's talented fingers massaged a tender ganglia.

"Who gets which speeder spot, retirement parties, even a change in curriculum gets mentioned as a sop to education issues. Lately the meetings got even more tedious. Thought I'd cheer myself up by comming you, baby."

"She needs a ray of sunshine herself sometimes, sir," Enri said over Padme's shoulder.

"Enri?"

"Yes, sir. Enjoying the morning before work, sir?"

"Stop with the 'sir.' It's Ruwee from now on out. Padme, where are you two off to today?"

_Papa sounds smug, blast it. "_Enri might be going to the Esplanade, and I'm headed to meet with Master Yoda about the Jedi Children's Museum."

"Again? It's running on its own, isn't it? Why does Master Yoda need you? Delegate, dear, you need to delegate."

_Don't tense up, don't -- _"Owooo, right there, Cousin, yesss -- um, yes, Papa, delegate, got it now. How's Mama?"

"I've got a misery in my back today, Padme, but don't you think another thing about it." Jobal's voice sounded cheerful enough from the Naberrie upstairs comm station.

Padme rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mama. I'm sorry, Mama. Would you like another shipment of blob candy from Taste o'Teevan?"

"You know, that sounds like just the thing. Thank you for the thought, Padme. How's Enri getting around?"

"Same as when you asked last month, he's -- "

"I'm flying the Torpedo, which Cousin Padme is nice enough to lend me. It's a treat to mod a high-end vehicle like that, too -- "

"You're making him work on your vehicle, daughter?" Jobal was wrinkling her nose in genteel displeasure, Padme just knew it. "He's so nice to do that."

_Enough, dears, before Sola drops by and joins in._ "Time for me to dress and leave, thanks for comming, good fortune on your meeting, Papa, and Mama, I'll see to the candy. Goodbye until next month."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye, sir, uh, I mean -- " Padme broke the connection.

"I'll see to the blob candy, Cousin."

"Thanks, Cousin." Padme closed her eyes as Enri compressed her temples with gentle hands. "Ohhh, yes. Again."

TBC


	34. Chapter 34

Ansion's eternal winds blew Count Dooku's cloak stiffly to the east, mirroring the grasses' waving seedheads. For early summer, the heat was mild, though it was still morning. The battle ought to be over with by then. _What would Qui-Gon have said about this? Would he be standing here with me? _A Dark Lord of the Sith such as Dooku was should have no doubts. Dooku had none about his latest purchase from _JediNow!_ and he was trying to eliminate doubt about Ansion's importance. For his long-range tactics to succeed, he would need this latest battle plan from Grievous to prove itself spectacularly on this pivotal world. From Dooku's vantage point behind a small clump of trees overlooking the wide rippling fields, the plan surpassed his fondest hopes. _It was worth it to leave the Outer Rim for this Mid-Rim dirtball. If only Grievous were at least near-human, I could confide in him my approval of his plans ... no. These new aides are more worthy than he._

"Macrobinoculars, Milord?" Six could not stand anymore to see his brothers in the battle scream and shake. He wiped off the frames where they had touched his skin as the MagnaGuard had instructed him and held them out for Dooku.

_He thinks me aged, weak. _"When and _if_ I need them, I shall ask. Tell me, clone, has the Republic battalion to the far west formed into squares yet?"

Six forced himself to look through the macrobinoculars again. "As before, Milord, they're defending themselves from the droids' charge, all weapons outward." Six's specialty was the quick formation of defensive hollow squares and in fact, his squad had won a few bets by squaring up in under fifteen seconds. He lowered the frames, giving himself a break from the view of his brothers' impending doom.

"Then you have my leave to give the artillery command to fire on their position when ready."_ A test for these plebeians._

_The kriffing bastard. _From out the corner of his eye, Six could see ARC397 drop character and his jaw at the same time. Six whirled with a broad smile towards the rest of his squad, as if overwhelmed by the honor. He blinked, "Stay on target," in rapid Jedi code before turning to his task. ARC397 resumed his sullen attitude, playing his part once more.

_Forgive me, brothers near and far. I'm only following orders, Jedi orders to infiltrate._ "Fire," Six said into the commlink.

Their small hill shuddered as the third elite company of artillery droids marched from behind the trees' cover in pairs, spaced themselves appropriately and prepared their calculations for distance, wind and angle. The kneeling member of the pair firmed its grip on the rail detonator slung over one shoulder, the standing member entered the coordinates on the weapon and fired it. For a glorious second, Six hoped that the magnetic discharge launching the flechette would malfunction sooner rather than later as it had in some companies. His hopes were dashed as the standing droid prepared another launch. Six had employed rail detonators himself in a limited fashion, always closer to the enemy than this. _The enemy. My brothers._

The rest of Six's squad busied themselves cleaning their weapons, waiting for the chance to use them against Dooku and any other Separatist who would give them cause to fire. Six tapped the fingernail where the onychotransponder had been and cursed the fact that such transponders lost power more quickly than others. It fell on him to decide when this mission was over, and something akin to prescience whispered, "Not yet." He knew it wasn't the Force.

xxxxx

Ansion's waving grasses had fewer bloodstains than other battlefields this day. Two blows arrived in deadly flechettes: nanobots screaming debilitating waves of sound coupled with pods bursting with asphyxiating shvash gas to suffocate the agonized troopers after they had yanked off their helmets with tremor-ridden hands. When a trooper's eyes and ears bled, when his teeth rattled nearly out of his head with the sonic blast, he called on his reserves but lost strength so fast that the only impulse left was for self-preservation, coupled with the belief that even without his helmet, he could fire a weapon. That reasoning proved false, because as his high-tech helmet rolled away on Ansion's uneven ground, a hovering bubble of shvash gas attuned to his body heat broke near his mouth, he heaved a breath of air mixed with the gas, and his short life was soon over. His throat cooled to nearly forty degrees below freezing, his larynx spasmed and he died thrashing in three minutes, but with very little blood. The two human Jedi generals and their simpering Padawan commander acolytes had lasted little longer.

By midmorning, Dooku was bored with Grievous' tactic, though he had to admit it was methodical enough. A standard artillery bombardment to soften up the massed Republic troops, the droids charged, the Republic forces squared up to repel the charge, the droids retreated to allow the artillery to target their special rounds, the flechettes did their dirty work, the droids closed in for the killing of any wayward trooper. _So like a droid's dull programming, call himself a cyborg as he will. Still, this is better than wetnursing the Separatist leaders. I am heartily sick of their infighting. _Grievous remained on Byss, ending his tedious overseeing of the crystal droids' manufacture and training. Dooku had not yet seen a crystal droid in battle action. He was looking forward to it.

By the shadowless time of day on any planet, Dooku was ready to throw in the single crystal droid prototype, more as an example to his aides and MagnaGuards than anything else, because each and every Republic warrior lay dead on the field. "Clone, deploy our special forces," Dooku said to Six, not noticing the man's stony expression.

"Take the cover off the case, boys," Six ordered dispiritedly. ARC397 alone straightened his slumped shoulders and complied. The camouflage tarp crumpled to the ground, ARC397 pressed a blue button and the clear plastene case opened. A crystallite droid emerged from its chrysalis, moving fluidly on multiple-jointed leg-analogs. It stood stock-still, gathering information for its computer-chip body, then its processor processed and it gravitated to the Count of Serenno.

"Orders." The voice was glass being turned into ground glass.

"Verify dead of the stack of human bodies ... over that ridge." Dooku pointed to the nearer ridge, the one with the cluster of clone bodies nearly obscured by the pile of droid carcasses. A regimental banner lay draped undisturbed by the ongoing wind, anchored to the grass by two clones' bodies. The sight failed to move Dooku. As the crystallite droid turned its back on him and moved down the slope, he drew his lightsaber and slashed it in two at its waist, deliberately neglecting his usual salute to an opponent. The red blade withdrew into its hilt before the droid reformed, but not by much. Without any comment or backwards look, the droid sealed itself together. Any fused crystals dropped off with no discernible loss of mass to the ambulatory necklace of crystal. It continued down the hill.

Six took notice when the crystallite droid reached its assignment. _Please be all dead._ His wish was granted as the droid lifted each dark head of Delta Company's corpses, shook hit roughly by its regulation haircut and then returned to them with its odd gliding stride. _It has five sets of knees. Its head is a mask of crystal nubs. How can we stop this thing? _He glanced at his squad, whose fatigue had dissolved. He didn't need to blink code at them for them to start thinking on a way to defeat the undefeatable.

_Meanwhile, in the southeast hangar of the Jedi Temple ... _

"Tending my kybuck, I was, when your incoming urgent message I received." Yoda sat eye to eye with Obi-Wan on his jittery kybuck, who jerked his horned head at Anakin before Yoda hauled in its reins. "Beast, be calm, you will." The kybuck snorted and tossed its head, flinging foamy lather at the two standing Jedi. Yoda patted its arched neck. "Proceed."

"Master, we have reason to believe that the Separatists have planted a listening device in the Temple." Obi-Wan insisted on walking toward the exit as he talked, gesturing to them both to follow. Yoda allowed the procession, using the time to socialize his ornery ride, hauling back on the reins as the kybuck made to rear before entering the elevator to the Council's spire. By the time the three had reached the chambers, the kybuck's energy had receded to a steady walk instead of a prance.

"Padawan Starstone, look aghast, do not, and return my mount to its stall, if you please," Yoda said to the chamber receptionist of the day. The scrawny girl lowered her blue eyes and removed the animal by reins and one horn, yanking its browsing lips away from nibbling her tabard. The creature was contrary as a Grizmallt nerf, thought Obi-Wan, as he plunged into their tale. He finished in under five minutes, a record.

"Immediate censorship of Soul Healer Regork's office is my recommendation, Master."

"He is involved somehow, think you?"

"We must suspect everyone," Obi-Wan replied, sounding much like Tholme. "What could the Separatists have overheard?"

"Things of a personal nature, no doubt. Battle plans? Unlikely, Master Kenobi. Soul Healer Regork is the, eh, soul of discretion." Yoda spread his special pillow on his council seat and relaxed with a sigh. "Riding again, get used to it, I must."

"Pardon, Masters, but personal information could be used against Jedi, against clones, against the Republic itself -- "

"Padawan Skywalker, good point you make, but how could tactics be discussed in a Soul Healer's office? Affairs of the soul, affairs of the heart" --_ ah, Padme, youthful Padme, too old I am for training in your ways, I fear -- "_but affairs of state or of war? I think not."

"It would be demoralizing to be in battle and have one's secrets broadcast through a battle command channel. I have secrets, well, we all do, and even inconsequential ones could distract at a critical moment." Obi-Wan settled in his own chair, ignoring Anakin, who braced himself for a long session of standing in the hot spot in the middle of the room. The metal shape seemed a brand against his chest.

Yoda gestured to Ki-Adi-Mundi's seat. "Rest, Padawan. Continue, Obi-Wan. Tired, also, you look."

Anakin's mouth dropped open as he was relieved from being center of attention and took in the fact that he, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, was seated in a Council seat. He crossed his legs in the favored way of Obi-Wan and listened with everything he had in him to the Masters' discussion.

"Nevertheless, someone could let a name slip, a reference that Skorr or Vos or Bulq could use against us if they reported it to Dooku and Grievous -- "

Yoda's eyes grew hooded as he smoothed his gimer stick. "Worry not about Vos."

Obi-Wan accepted the fact that much was kept from him about his erstwhile friend Quinlan Vos as he continued. "But Master, you do see a danger. Regardless of the content of the intel, the fact that someone has planted a device in such a lamp in the very _heart_ of Jedi hearts -- "

"And returns to it from time to time to replace its tunnel diodes which our powerhouse of the Force keeps corroding, yes, yes, agree on that, we do. A spy, an imposter past our guards, a listening beam out device, troubling it is, troubling, indeed." Yoda shifted on his Osk-shaped pillow. "Mmmm. Healer Bant, perhaps I should see."

"Bant is back?" Obi-Wan's enthusiasm made Anakin smile. Anakin was fond of the gentle Mon Calamarian, too.

"Since one week ago. Light duty in the infirmary, she has."

"She's ill?"

Yoda steepled his claws. "Seen much on New Holstice and other hospitals, she has. Ill? Not of the body, yet a small disturbance of the soul. A large heart, she has." Yoda shifted again. "Done, it will be. Quarantine of Regork's office, plant intel when meet with Master Tholme, we shall consider." He shot a glance to Obi-Wan and Anakin. "From your tale, rough treatment the Shrine of Kooroo dealt you."

Anakin shifted himself in his seat. "The plant creature was extremely kinetic and -- "

" -- its roothairs were most invasive," Obi-Wan continued, squirming slightly. "Yes, we'll go with you, to see Bant and have her talents used to their fullest. She is a wonderful Healer, Master Yoda."

Yoda smiled broadly. "Felt her soft touch, I have. A gift from the Force, it is." He took the lead down to the infirmary.

TBC


	35. Chapter 35

In the primary infirmary, it was as he had visualized, Bant's supple webbed fingers clasping around his waist as far as her petite physique would let them, her smooth warm head against his shoulder. She held him for a very long time without speaking.

"Bant, it can't be two years," Obi-Wan said at last, pulling back to observe her. She looked the same, but then she would until she passed into the Force, many years from now. The only difference between two years earlier and today was in her aura, a banked, peaked thing with all her timidity and none of her quiet strength. _It's like she is Tahl's opposite number, no spirited words, no fire. Bant's fire has been extinguished and she has no words of explanation. "_Bant?"

"Obi-Wan, this isn't a dream, is it?"

"No, old friend. As real as real can be." She clung to him like a suckerfish.

"Ah, yes. Ah, yes." She straightened his tabards like they used to do for each other when they first became Knight, then pressed both hands to her mouth. "Am I showing too much feeling?"

_She always worries about that. _"You are absolutely the correct color, Bant. Not too green, not too pink, just the right shade of orange sunset that I remember." _And I don't know what to make of this._

"I'm packaging bacta strips today for the next Jedi team to take with their medkit." Bant counted ten to put into the durasteel box, then added ten more. "For safety's sake, you know." Silvery eyes reflected his concerned stubbled face. "This kit might be for you and Anakin. I wouldn't want the responsibility of not preparing you for ... for ... " She threw in another handful without counting them and then sealed the container. "There."

"Bant, why are you wearing your hood indoors?"

She pulled it farther down her domed forehead. "I'm wearing it all the time, like Luminara does her cowl. It's my fashion statement in our new Code, do you like it?" Bant giggled.

_Oh, not good._ "Bant -- "

"Bant, I need you to examine Master Yoda for his ongoing problem and then see to Padawan Skywalker's quarterly checkup." Luminara Unduli's voice was softer than Obi-Wan had ever heard it. "And I'll arrange for your quarters to have the humidity level raised ten more degrees."

Bant lay her head against Obi-Wan's shoulder again.

"Now, please, Healer."

"'Healer.' Yes, 'Healer.'" Bant stiffened as if she were a vertebrate. "Oh, sure, Luminara. Obi-Wan and I can comm each other tonight or he can visit me at home. Can't he?" Bant tucked her hands inside her robe and nearly disappeared completely as her hood fell forward. She froze, awaiting Luminara's reply.

"Certainly. I'm too busy to socialize tonight, but you and he can -- "

"You didn't have to escort me back here, you know, Luminara. One of the walking wounded clones could have done it. _I'm all right._"

"I needed to meet with Master Yoda in person, Bant, you know that."

"Stuff it, Luminara. _Holograms and holocams and holotransmitters_, that's what they were made for." This was the Bant that Obi-Wan knew from her apprenticeship to Kit Fisto, sterner stuff than his first impression of her five minutes ago.

"Bant." _I need to negotiate._

"What."

"Later, I'll come over with Anakin. Ninth hour?"

"Fine." Bant slid away on soft-soled boots.

"She's seen too much death, Obi-Wan. She says that she wants to see new life and forget about its natural end. I haven't the time to give to her case that she needs, so I brought her back for Regork." Luminara herself seemed lethargic. "She's incorrect about seeing Master Yoda and I'll remind her of that later. I _do_ need to see him in person, about something big." She tapped the side of her nose. "You probably know about it, being on the Council, but I'm still in the dark."

_Can't tell you, sorry._ "Regork sees patients in his quarters now. Changing the subject, Lu, but Anakin and I were attacked by a nasty member of the plant kingdom on Gelgelar." He undid his belt.

"Swamp nettles?"

"Ahhh, don't even _think_ that!" Obi-Wan removed his outermost tunic. "No, a mobile relative of the gripvine family. It squeezed us and wrapped us up for its own _very personal_ use after it tasted us, I suppose you could call it, with roothairs that probed _everywhere_." He pulled off his boots. "We were also nearly drowned."

Luminara prepped her exam table with slow swabbing movements. "You _had_ to ingest some water. Symptoms?"

"Nothing major. We'll need a clean bill of health before the week's end." He pulled on the usual smock. "I'm ready."

xxxxx

Obi-Wan wound his obi slowly around him, smoothing each fold although it would be hidden by his belt in any case. When he couldn't stall any longer, he turned to face his friend.

"Something I ate?" _Don't let it be anything more than that, not when Anakin and I are renewing our lives together. And our love. _

"Obi-Wan, you have grown a uterus since I last examined you on New Holstice." Luminara called on all her professional and private sense of control to deliver this news. She could have sworn that the Force hitched uncertainly.

Time began again. "Lu, just when I think I know you well -- "

"It's true. Look." She punched up her screen to holo mode and an obscenely large knees-to-navel section of a human body sprang into the center of the darkened room. "See this?"

Obi-Wan peered at a thing that looked like the head of an antlered kybuck. Luminara tapped a control and the revolving organ turned solid pink, growing a small tube out its neck that didn't match Obi-Wan's muted memory of human female internal physiology from Winna Di Yuni's half-hour class for Padawans.

"Yes -- "

"It's a uterus and ovaries. No vagina, though, everything completely internal." _Thank the stars for small favors._ "I've _got_ to do some more research, but from what you've told me about your jaunt on the orbital platorm closely connected to Siri" -- _and just how close were you?_ -- "and the Spaarti radiation's overtaking your shields, well, it looks like Siri has been imprinted upon you in an unusual way. Scans show that these organs are yours genetically, as if you were born female in that four hundred-fifty cubic centimeter area only."

"I haven't ... there's nothing _missing_, is there? Nothing lost?" A huge hand squeezed his chest and shallowed his breathing. "Nothing ... important?"

"No. You simply have both sets of reproductive organs for your species, the new female one similar to that of an underdeveloped internal conjoined twin. It's developed interestingly" -- Luminara warmed to her subject with the enthralling newness of being the first to document something like this -- "because you've formed a tube from your uterus to your digestive tract to osmotically release menses there and that is what was showing up as a highly noticeable symptom. Menses leaving a female body naturally, as they always do in nongravid health." This news contributed to his glassy stare, and she told the rest of her present findings, as she had to. But gently. "Obi-Wan, you _are_ healthy. The interface that your body has grown between the different genders" -- Obi-Wan turned a sickly green visible even in this dim light and Luminara shoved a uncovered specimen container closer with her toe, just in case -- "I've never seen before, but since you _are_ currently healthy, it's doing its job to keep potentially dangerous waste materials separate from any other system by a one-way transfer. Everything flushes out, you see." She brightened as an idea struck. "Changelings do this all the time. Gurlanin and Clawdites, for instance, change genders frequently, I'm sure." _Most likely Wesell didn't have to change internally, but still ... build him up, Luminara._ "This can be repaired, and you need only stay with me overnight."

Obi-Wan paced before the exam table and ran fingers through his hair, back to front, front to back, resisting the impulse to tear out chunks of it. "Siri, she -- oh, you can't think -- we didn't _do_ anything, just hugged after our mission was over with and she thought only of my safety when I held her on my lap in space -- I need to sit -- " Luminara shoved Obi-Wan into a chair and notched up the roomlights more as she dimmed the hologram. She held his head down almost between his knees until he regained color. The Force smoothed out. "Siri and I _never_ did anything, I swear to you, Lulu, only one I've ever imprinted with is Anakin, _oh_ -- " Luminara straightened Obi-Wan from his uncomfortable position and put an arm around his shoulders. They sat quietly for some minutes.

"Siri! If I've developed this, does _she _now have -- "

"No. Her examination was that of a thirty-six Standard-year-old female human, prime of life, actually." _Siri does have balls, but only in her mind._

"How did she ... escape?"

"She hadn't any Force protection next to her, so the radiation passed through her and onto your equally unprotected gut. You, from what you've told me, were directly behind Siri, allowing the cloning radiation to map her organs' genetic template onto you and that's when your body ... accepted it as part of your genome. I think it has to do with your enhanced closeness to Anakin's midichlorian count, your body's new ability to absorb information and due to the lack of shielding in the lower torso, well ..." She paused delicately. "You did, um, stop what you and he were doing to get closer than" -- _what is usual _-- "you two had been prior to your Trow mission, didn't you?"

Obi-Wan looked down. "We did." _And it was a profound Trial of the Flesh, unlike any_ _other Jedi's has been. _"We only resumed when you said that my midichlorians were on a par with his." He straightened in his seat, gazing into her blue eyes, Jedi to Jedi. "You said I was fully recovered from Trow. That I was _better._"

_Unsettling to hear you're back to where you were, though I don't think it's my business. And Obs, you're not going to like what I must say next._ "And so you are. As I told you weeks ago, you're even healthier than you were two years ago. Your midichlorian count is nearly toe-to-toe with Anakin's. But Obi-Wan, because you've resumed intimacy with him and you're currently fully-functional in this area as a female, I'm going to prescribe something for you when you and he are together, since the osmotic barrier needs more study. There's something I've not seen before in your aura directly over it, almost a blockage, well, I'll transmit these readings to my lab and have your bloodwork and tissue samples from New Holstice sent, too." _More work, ahhhh ... _"It's only practical, but you might not have thought of taking precautions when you, um, get closer to your Padawan, in certain ways, that is."

"Precautions."

"Rubbers. Or subcutaneous transmitters to block your female cycle, though I hesitate to add those to your hypersensitive metabolism when you'll come in for surgery soon anyway. Direct barriers are best, unless you choose to vary your metho-- "

_"Please,_ Lu. I'll -- _We'll_ deal with things until I come in for my procedure." _Oh, Chosen One, I don't know how I'll tell you about this. We didn't take precautions in the tree, or on Gelgelar, but we did other things on Gelgelar since we had no privacy away from the clones. Oh, oh, oh. _"But other than that, I'm fit for duty?"

_He's amazing. _"I'll sign you off."

"I'll see you after my next mission, then."

_Meanwhile, on a bench in the Room of One Thousand Fountains ..._

"Eh?"

"I said, Adi, that I'll need your help in planting false information in Regork's presence." The humidity from the nearby biggest fountain flattened Adi's headdress and turned Tholme's tail of hair into gray frizz.

"Surely you don't suspect Regork of duplicity?" _The things I've confided in him from that couch, through the years ..._

_Blasted fountain, can barely hear her. But spies can't, either. _"No, I don't. His lamp he bought off _JediNow!_ since he was sentimental about it coming from his home world and it had the right look for his office. Dooku knew that about him and planted the thing, maneuvering the auction somehow so that Regork won it. It's been feeding information to the Separatists for many months now. It may have led Dooku to a great victory on Ansion. If he knew, not the individual Jedi strategy, but personal information about the two Master/Padawan teams, that could be in his favor." _Curry her. _"I don't suspect _you_, either."

_I'm flattered, I think. _"And why not?"

"Siri wouldn't keep it from me if she suspected you'd Turned, even if you'd asked her not to tell. She's too honest for that." _She must have been a better actress in her younger days, to fool Krayn. Or something happened to her in those years to change her ... stay focused, Tholme._

_Sentimental Regork led us to this danger, unsentimental Siri would not keep secrets from the Order. I ... approve of Siri. _"Of course I'll help. Are you going to ask T'ra, too, or shouldn't I inquire?"

_T'ra? _"Why would I ask her? This intel needs to come from a regular patient to soothe any suspicions, not a brand-new one."

"I saw T'ra outside Regork's office months ago. She said she needed to meditate on his advice."

_She never told me she was seeking his counsel. Is it because we stopped -- _"I'll think it over, but probably not. The fewer in on this, the better. So, can you pretend to be more distraught than usual and let some things slip?"

_I can laugh at myself now._ "Don't worry, I'll drink three cups of caf beforehand. Do you want tears, too?"

"That won't be necessary, just semi-hysterics."

_He almost smiled. _"Expect to hear from you soon, then."

"Uh, by in person means only, Adi." He was frowning as he levered himself up with his cane and said by rote, "May The Force Be With You."

"Things will work out, Tholme." _Feels good to be able to give encouragement. I couldn't have done it last year. _"May The Force Be With You."

TBC


	36. Chapter 36

_I must admit, I'm curious if sex will feel different, now that I know what's happened to me. Let's try something like we did on Gelgelar. __Like last time when we had to be quiet, mmmmm ... in Threxa's boarding house ... it's like a secret between just us two when we're like this, do it some more, Anakin ... ohhhh ... _This was what they had done when rooming with Six and his brothers. All the squad stretched and yawned at the same time each night, all five fell asleep with little variation in their roles of disaffected deserters. And in that guise of datarie-pinching necessity, the officers had bunked with their troops. Somehow the giddy deception of one Jedi sneaking into another's bunk for a few hours of enforced claustrophobia added to his desire. Several times Obi-Wan had bitten his knuckles hard enough to bleed when stifling a moan, certain he would soon hear a gruff, "Keep it down!", which, under the circumstances, he most certainly did _not_ want to do. He squirmed in his Council seat this warm summer afternoon as if the roothairs were still attacking him and jerked himself away from his fantasy about tonight as Anakin's voice percolated into his consciousness._ Unifying Force, let me alone._

"Artoo could help us."

"He's a droid." Ki-Adi-Mundi's conservative Cerean prejudice against mechanical devices came to the fore.

"That's _why_ he could help us. He could be shipped as a bonus surprise from _JediNow!_ on Palo's part, an incentive for business, a recognition of Dooku's stature, I don't know. Watto used to groom his marks with small free things like that sometimes."_ Watto, I never thought I'd use your business tactics. Mom always said that things could be much worse when were were enslaved. I suppose she was right, as always._

Yoda said slowly, "Insight, you have to the outside world from a different level than other Jedi. Humbled, I am." _Nearer to Knighthood than he thinks he is._

_The day is coming when I shall have to let my Padawan go. I hope it hurts less than I think it will. _Next to Obi-Wan, Ki-Adi-Mundi concentrated with both brains, his head pulsing in that way that it had. The Cerean was about to say something, Obi-Wan could tell.

"This method uses both Dark and Light sides of the Force. I admit to being puzzled."

"It's called a 'white lie,' Master Ki. It pushes a customer to think favorably of a merchant, so that when he next needs a product or service, he'll think of that merchant," Anakin brought Ki-Adi-Mundi up to speed on their latest ploy to enter Dooku's sphere. Master Yoda leaned away from allowing any more Jedi in on their plan, and Padme made the number of their think tank an even six, counting Artoo. Artifact Number Six of nearly forty-eight thousand artifacts rested in its cover in the middle of the Council chamber floor, along with boxes of signed special edition Jedi holocards, from Initiate Mimo who could barely scrawl her name to Yoda himself, whose calligraphy was hardly better. Anakin thought of the hopes invested in these items with more gravity than he had ever experienced. _No more fighting in fullscale battles, after Grievous is brought to justice, that is. Peace will take some getting used to. _

_Booodleybeepbeepdeyeeee? _Artoo's dome swiveled from Anakin beside him to the four seated occupants of the grand chamber. Padme voiced her concern.

"Masters, Healer Unduli's suggestion of a drug to alter their metabolisms disturbs me. Couldn't this subterfuge all be done by using the Force to suppress their lifesigns? Drugs need constant monitoring to dose correctly and they'll both be far from sympathetic hands ... "

_She's smart and is thinking of us both. I'll talk to her later. _"Your Excellency, the technique of deadening one's body to outside recognition is beyond my Padawan's abilities at this time. It is something I myself have never used in the field. For us to depend upon it, given the gravity of the mission, would be unwise." _'Disastrous,' I nearly said, 'Disastrous.'_

_I thought it was easier than that. Oh. _"Forgive me if I misspoke. I know little about the Force, much less your techniques." _Anakin said that Obi-Wan was holding him back, but was it because Obi-Wan simply did not know some things? Anakin respects and loves his Master so, perhaps he thinks of him as infallible. Or omniscient._ Padme thought of swimming in clearer intellectual waters with Enri, and sighed. "This _is_ complex, gentlebeings, but _not_ impossible. Yoda's, pardon me, _Master_ Yoda's insight into Dooku's personality has led us to this plan and now it comes to implementation."She stood to emphasize her authority and to leave a seat where her feet dangled, making her feel like a child. _One hand outstretched, head up, look each in the eyes. _"All of us here in this chamber constitute the best hope that the Republic has for ending this war, and even though it sounds prideful, it is the truth. We _shall_ do what we must, and prevail."

_Warm feelings, yes, but back to business, Yoda._ "Padme, your world's _NabooExpress, _promise delivery in two full Standard days, they do. Pressure suits complete with helmets, these two warriors will use and to depend upon the terentatek strips for Force-insulation, enough that will be. When Dooku himself opens his prize alone, and know he will attempt this, I do, then the outcome will depend on the Force. Allies among his household, the formidable Jedi-killer, Grievous, all these will come into play at that moment." Yoda produced an ampoule from his robe so quickly that no one could swear to its origin. Padme shivered. "Soporific drugs _then _may prevail over the Count of Serenno. Customized from his prior medical records here, Master Unduli says, though the details of this assignment she knows not."

"And our escape depends upon Anakin's acting ability." Obi-Wan beamed a smile full of confidence at his Padawan's competence. "Disguised as Dooku, he shall walk Dooku out of his own estate secured senseless in the carpet and onto the stalled delivery ship, which he will 'repair.' The scheme shall be to have Anakin as Dooku act the enraged customer who has been bilked and demands an immediate return in person of the misrepresented goods."

"Won't that be risky for the delivery pilot? They might get thrown into danger -- " Padme tore her gaze from Obi-Wan's scruff of beard to Ki-Adi-Mundi's formidable cranium. She found herself thinking of a Nubian's smooth cheeks, wide smile and massaging fingers._ That's danger, of a different kind. _

"It's all droid pilots for that sector. Everyone else fears Dooku's unpredictability. _NabooExpress_ has had pilots drop out of sight after runs to Serenno, so droids are the best option for their company." Ki-Adi-Mundi's left brain already had worked upon its vast knowledge of sector-specific details even as his right brain speculated on which preparations two human Jedi would need to stay immobile in what would be their final resting place should the mission go awry. _Various unpleasant bodily function repressors needed, one of them must stay conscious all the time, no, not a mission for regular Knights. I'm content to be a run-of-the-mill Knight. _Ki-Adi-Mundi's topknot bobbed as he activated his corpus callosum more fully and an un-Jedi-like thought swam through from left to right brain. _After Dooku's capture, I want Grievous for myself. Hypori will be avenged. _

"And you, Master Jedi?" Padme halted before Obi-Wan's seat. She tilted her head downwards and as Obi-Wan looked up into her concerned gaze, he knew why Anakin found her attractive for so many years. "You shall be where?"

"The droid will tug the delivery case along and I shall be inside it, ready to defend our escape if necessary, Your Excellency. Our mission is utmost in importance, but not at the expense of my Padawan's safety, rest assured." _She probably has residual feelings for him. I would, if our situations were reversed._

_I like roll-up sandwiches, but not that much! Dooku wrapped inside the carpet, Obi-Wan outside that, the case holding them both. _Consternation flooded Padme. If the Republic lost two such talented and high-profile Jedi, in addition to the average toll of one death in the Order per Standard day, the demoralizing factor would cripple the war effort.

When Padme looked aghast, Anakin said quickly, "Your Excellency, we _are_ Jedi. We are used to tight surroundings and swift action, erm -- "

_"_What my Padawan means to say, Your Excellency, is that we will not pull out before our mission comes to a successful climax, erm -- "

"Get the job done, they will, Padme," finished Yoda. He nodded at the group. "Finished, we are. May The Force Be With Us."

_Later that night ..._

After the first drink of the evening had gone straight to Anakin's head, something told him to confide in Obi-Wan about his Telling-Upsetting-News kata. Obi-Wan countered with one of his own: Tell the news in a moving vehicle. Tell it in an undertone, so the other person needs to be very quiet in order to hear. Do it once only. Allow for processing time. When Anakin spluttered his next drink all over his next-best tunic and had to change into his tattered watching-holovids outfit, Obi-Wan regretted not practicing his own kata. He continued preparing dinner to give his hands something to do and because it was his turn.

"So," Anakin choked, "let me get this straight. Something charged your midichlorians on Olanet, maybe the Force, you don't know. And on Kaer Orbital Platform, in response to Spaarti cloning radiation, those same charged midichlorians enabled your immune system, _which has always been the bane of your allergy-riddled existence,_ to finally fuck you royally and create a uterus in you."

"Language, Padawan, but yes, you've understood perfectly."

"I hate you."

"What?"

"I hate you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. How _can_ you be so calm?"

Obi-Wan paused, deep in thought. "Because the Living Force that Qui-Gon tutored me in has led me to this pass. And besides, Luminara said it could have happened to you as much as to me in the same situation, since we're very much alike in some ways."

Anakin swallowed hard._ You're the Master, you could handle this news much better. I'd be catatonic by now. _"What more did Master Lu's preliminary findings show?"

"She says, like before on New Holstice, that my survival response to the unshielded aurora radiation that high up when I blacked out on Olanet supercharged my midichlorians. My immune system's cells used something called a somatic hypermutation mechanism to adapt to foreign elements which confront it, for instance, microbes such as the Trow mold. The mechanism diversifies the receptors that my immune system uses to recognize foreign elements. This allows my immune system to adapt its response to new threats during my lifetime." Obi-Wan took a large bite out of his appetizer zog. The pungent odor of the pickled vegetable filled the cozy kitchen. "This somatic hypermutation affects the variable regions of immunoglobulin genes and strangely enough for a mutation, affects only individual immune cells while the mutations are not passed along to any hypothetical offspring of mine." He looked sideways at Anakin and continued preparations for dinner.

"The way Siri and I were squished together" -- Anakin's mouth twisted -- "when the cloning radiation hit my unprotected midsection unidirectionally when we pressed so close and all" -- Anakin hissed impatiently -- "my system thought that she was an antigen invading my body because she was foreignly female. It prepared a defense. Fascinating, really." Obi-Wan's hands never slowed his prep work, Anakin saw, as the man chopped and diced, shredded and minced. Or was Obi-Wan just nervous and working out stress with physical activity? His shields said, "Privacy requested," as clearly as they ever had. "The whole duplication of her organs can be considered a sort of tumor, one that Luminara can remove easily. She is anticipating writing an illustrated entry in _Internal Journal._ She says my innards will be famous as 'Jedi Aurek.' Siri will be 'Jedi Besh.' She's going to take holos while I am out cold." Obi-Wan selected a fileting knife and shaved strips of nerf from a chilled joint and returned the joint to the frosty cooling unit.

_Yeah, Master Tachi was a germy threat, at that. _"Offspring." _Kids._ "Nothing of _her_ in any younglings of _yours_?"

"No. Her organs acted as a template for my system to form a cloned uterus and ovaries, prior to attacking it and purging it from my system, but the burst didn't last long enough to empower the purging stage. My own cell replicating mechanism did all the work. The cells evolved to, as Luminara put it, 'a thriving, healthy adult w-woman's generating organ.'" Obi-Wan tittered. "I've turned into a clone." He whacked at a tough section of tuber.

"I've said it before, but you're so serene, Obi-Wan." Anakin pushed off the island and leaned over it, resting his elbows on its spotless white tiles, lowering himself to match Obi-Wan's height. He didn't touch him, not yet.

"Well, it took a while to get centered, but when she said that if I got pregnant from our session in the tree that the baby could be extracted at the end of term without harming it, I felt much better. Pass the scrimpi, please."

_This is just the way he is. _ Anakin coughed himself into a laugh. "Twins."

"What?"

"You -- _We_ might have twins. My mom was a twin, and they're said to skip a generation." Anakin rolled a blumfruit on the hard tiles after handing Obi-Wan the scrimpi. He had to think hard not to splatter the fruit with his mechno-hand. He chose another vegetable knife and sliced the fruit in two, squeezing the half-globe in his metallic hand after removing its glove. Red juice and a little pulp ran into a clear bowl. The metal left an aftertaste when he licked his hand. "I never met my Uncle Shmoo, of course. He wasn't nice to Mom, she always said, even before the pirates enslaved them all that year, but then you know how younglings are at nine. Lots of demands for parents' attention, rivalries ... "

"No, I don't know, actually." Obi-Wan pressed the control for his beloved state-of-the-art oven, marking it to 'slow rise to median temperature, cut off ten minutes before done time, browning element activated.' "In the Initiates' Hall, we never lacked for attention, if we wanted it. It must be difficult to be a parent with multiples, without the Temple's resources. Stand back." Obi-Wan phased open the oven door, sliding the luscious casserole inside. "Thirty minutes, darling." Anakin wasn't certain if Obi-Wan were speaking to the casserole or himself. Obi-Wan wiped his hands and straightened. "What's that you're making?"

"Another before-dinner drink. A new recipe, a Coruscant Cooler. Want one?" The Kessel Survivor bartender who Anakin had met at the Galaxies Opera House had been sending a few of her favorite drink recipes at his request, her gruff voice on the comm station elevating Obi-Wan's eyebrows, though he assiduously saved each message if Anakin weren't home. Anakin's interests had branched out to elaborate fruit-and-alcohol concoctions. There were seven steps to constructing a Coruscant Cooler, each level's ingredient calculated as to its specific gravity. It was the sort of engineering challenge that Anakin reveled in.

Obi-Wan, bemused, said slowly, "I'd better not chance it, don't you think?"_ And besides, drinking still doesn't appeal that much, after all this time. Where would I be now if I had continued escalating it?_

Anakin strained the juice and added a shot of Gralish liqueur, making the mixture fizz when he added in the final wine layer to the very top of the crystal flute. It just missed bubbling over to make a mess. "I need one tonight." He took his flute and sauntered to the common room, putting his feet up on the lammaswood caf table. Obi-Wan joined him, leaning his head against the plush sofa's back. Their fingers entwined.

"What will we _do_ if I am already -- " "As if this is something that could really hap-- " They managed to smile. "You first," Obi-Wan said.

"It's outrageous, Obi-Wan. The whole scheme, the whole _idea_ that you could conceive." Anakin took a long pull on his drink. "Only _you_ could come up with this. And share it with me."

_It's not all that odd in the galaxy._ "Hutts are intersexed, and the X'Ting change gender every three years or so."

"But they know what's coming! That makes all the difference, Obi-Wan!" Anakin tossed back his drink quicker than a samlon could leap a weir. "Tell me honestly, is this something that you thought would ever be in your life?" He twiddled the empty flute's stem rapidly between his fingers.

"Not for myself, no, but I like younglings, whether they are mine or not. This is merely an ... unusual thing to deal with at thirty-eight. It _was_ a little nauseating to learn about the mechanics, I must admit. I was more upset that Luminara could have gotten the impression that I would imprint with Siri, that I would imprint with anyone other than you." Obi-Wan leaned into Anakin's shoulder.

"Nausea! But it's much too soon for that! What do you think made ... not yet, no, you can't be _that_ sensitive ... "

"Calm down. Luminara pulled up this holo of what I look like inside now and it made me ... made me ... " Obi-Wan swallowed hard. "Just a little bit sick."

"_How_ sick? Sicker than when I ate the bugs? Sicker than when I drove the speeder straight down Galactic City's buildings chasing Wesell? Sicker than when we overturned the bongo during spring full-bore tide? Sicker than -- "

"Stop! Just ... stop. Change the subject." Obi-Wan gulped. _In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Out through the mouth ... out through ... out ... drat ... _He doubled over, but Anakin wasn't his Master's Padawan for nothing. He whisked one arm under Obi-Wan's knees and the other around his shoulders and Force-leaped into the 'fresher just in time. His flute went flying.

_You Force-leaped, ohhhhh ... wrong thing to do, Padawan ... huuuuurrrggghhhhh ..._ After he'd finished, Anakin handed him tissues and Obi-Wan blew his nose thoroughly. "It's true?" Anakin squeaked.

"We don't know yet, and I refuse to speculate. It was all that talk about disgusting subjects that did it. I _told_ you I was upset, why did you _insist _on -- "

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's gotten to me. We've been going through a rough patch and then all was okay again, the war has a hope of ending, the Code is changed, why can't we have some peace?" Anakin heard his whiny voice and didn't care. "It's not right, not f--"

"If you say 'it's not fair,' I'll spank you. I can still do it, pregnant or not." Obi-Wan reached for his most authoritarian tone. "Remember that." The effect was blunted by a post-emesis belch. They moved into their bedroom. The four-poster looked mighty inviting to Obi-Wan and he lay down after removing his slippersox. "Get me up when the timer goes off, will you? I want to sprinkle some Mrs. Flame on top of the casserole."

"But you -_hic_- h-hate Mrs. Flame!"

"Stop reading things into what I say! It just sounds tasty tonight, that's all." _I'm not having cravings, I'm not, and anyway, Jedi do not hate._

"Well, you're acting like you have something in the oven, and I don't mean a casserole." Anakin dimmed the light and palmed the door closed on Obi-Wan's groan.

TBC


	37. Chapter 37

"Bant, you've known me longer than anyone." Obi-Wan and Anakin lolled on Bant's overstuffed sofa.

Bant curled her fingers around her mug of Hoi-Broth. Its steam hung heavy in the humid atmosphere of her quarters. "That has been my honor and my privilege."

Obi-Wan waved a hand in front of his face. He hadn't had a problem with allergies since his midichlorian count burgeoned, but then he hadn't been around Hoi-Broth since then. "So I can confide in you something I'm having trouble dealing with." Anakin flung an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders, but Obi-Wan leaned forward, out of the embrace. A few things had arisen in his thoughts since his nap earlier. They seemed minor, but giving Bant an in to his unusual medical condition might stir her empathic Healer nature and give her an outlet for her feelings. Right now she seemed caught in a loop of gloom.

"Do you really want to? I know I told Luminara that I was all right, but it's something that comes and goes. Right now I can't promise to be a good listener." Bant's orange skin tones shaded with more gray than Obi-Wan was used to seeing her display. His heart ached for her. When she leaped up suddenly and asked for them all to visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains with her, he agreed without a backwards glance at Anakin. Anakin followed them and primed himself to sit quietly for a spate of reminiscing from the two friends. He had learned much of Obi-Wan's past that way, though his attention drifted eventually in these sessions.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains' air was at least half as humid as in Bant's quarters. The murmuring splashes of water ought to have been more soothing than they were in this hail-and-farewell meeting with Bant, troubling Obi-Wan on a deep level. Odd bursts of despair colored both her mantle and her aura an unsettling indigo for minutes at a time.

"I don't want to see you except at the Room of a Thousand Fountains," Bant said again as Anakin and Obi-Wan settled on the sward beside her while she spread herself next to them as if underwater, her pleated blue skirt ringing her like a reef. "Big, important mission tomorrow?"

_This is the Bant that I know. _"Yes. We'll be gone less than one week if plans fall out as they should." Obi-Wan began to relax.

Bant grabbed Anakin's braid, dragging him into the conversation. Anakin pulled back automatically. "What -- "

"Bant, let go, please!" Obi-Wan disentangled the hair. "Why did you do that?"

Anakin scuttled out of reach. _Ow._

"Don't endanger our Chosen One, Obi-Wan. He's still naught but a Padawan, _don't_ hurt him." _The sliminess of bacta makes me sick now._

_It's worse than I thought; she's disconnected from Jedi reality. _"He's _my Padawan_ and he goes where I do. I _need _him." Bant's rippling colors steadied to a solid sheet of taupe with a stripe of yellow flowing down the top of her head, disappearing beneath her lace collar. The stripe effect he'd not seen before on her. He couldn't imagine its meaning.

Anakin was indignant. "Master Bant, I know what I'm getting into. I'm prepared." _If I were a Knight already, she wouldn't lack confidence in me. When will it happen, when ..._

Bant's unfocused gaze frightened Obi-Wan. "Tell me what's wrong," he said. He turned to Anakin. "Please -- "

"I'm going." Anakin bowed deeply to Bant. As immersed in herself as she was, she returned the bow from her cross-legged position as her fingers strained apart the sheer skirt's pleats and then crimped them back up again. Anakin headed for home.

"Well."

"A deep subject."

"Ha."

"'Ha' back at you." Bant's lower lip feelers quivered. "Obi-Wan, I'm sinking fast. There are some things I can't forget."

"We'll meditate together -- "

"Meditation doesn't solve everything. Qui-Gon died before he could teach you that."

"A moving meditation, then." _Anakin's preferred method. _"Come _on_, Bant." She offered her hands and he pulled her up to stand beside him. She had lost weight. "Dance with me." He began the Dance of the Seventy Violet Veils that Qui-Gon had taught him at nineteen after Qui-Gon's solo mission to Askaj. _Thank you for instructing me, Master. It's graceful even without the tomoun scarves to do it correctly. _He placed both arms around her slim shoulders after guiding her hands to grasp his waist. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, turning slowly in a circle. As she allowed him to lead her, Bant's cheek pressed against his chest and a torrent of words cascaded.

"Obi-Wan, it's terrible, I was unprepared for this, nothing Master Tahl or Kit taught me helps. I've kept count and sixty-two Jedi and four hundred twelve clones have died before my eyes."

_And she can't blink. _"Oh, Bant."

"I tried everything I knew and it didn't stop them from dying, not one of them."

"It was their time -- "

"No, it was _my_ time to save them and I couldn't, I couldn't -- "

"You've saved others. Aayla and Shaak Ti after Hypori and so many others, Bant. Focus on them instead." _She's shedding veils like Regork loses his scales. Is it good or bad for her? _Good, in this case, Obi-Wan decided. He found a rhythm in the splashes of the nearest fountain and started to hum a song in the correct tempo that had nothing to do with the Askajian dance and everything to do with how he felt about his friend. The words played in his head as he tried to stay on key, rumbling the song in his chest so that the statoliths in her head would pick up the vibrations and soothe her. " ... Hmmmhm ... my whole life has changed ... and everybody tells me that I am not the same ... since I met you ... hmhm ... to tell my troubles to ... hmhm ... all I need is you ... " _Drat. I've forgotten most of the words. Oh, here, the most important part. "_Since I met you, uh, erm, hmhm, I'm a happy man."

Bant revolved with Obi-Wan for a few more turns, then stopped. "But Obi-Wan, what about your news?" _I'm out of the abyss. For a while._

_I feel better, helping her. That has to be enough. _"It's nothing critical. Certainly nothing to affect our mission tomorrow. And I dislike saying this, but Anakin and I need to turn in early. Walk you back home?" She was now a mottled brown and yellow, the color of an ocean floor after a storm has churned up the sand. She hadn't changed color for several minutes.

"Thanks, but no." _Stars, make me a youngling, just for tonight._ "It's been beyond words to see you again, Obi-Wan. May The Force Be With You."

_She's stable enough to leave her. I'll comm Luminara and tell her where she is. _"Bant, your friends and your work need you. _I_ need you. May The Force Be With You."

Bant waved absently.

_Two days later ..._

Closeness and clanking droid steps, dreams and the drip of a timed toxin to slow their metabolisms until the timer sensed the mixture of gases that made up Serenno's atmosphere. A hint of the frigidity of open space, the rumble of a transport's sublight engines as it prepared for landing, an out-of-synchronization squeal per planned "engine trouble." Anakin's friends and enemies long gone swam into Obi-Wan's end of the bond, mingling with Obi-Wan's memories as if everyone attended the Jedi Annual Picnic and Open Temple Tour. Xanatos and Bruck munched on crispics at one end of the scramball field, smiling for once, while Qui-Gon and Tahl sparred, Tahl's bright glance restored. No one spoke. In the distance, Darra and Tru strolled Knight Fee's gardens, Jenna Zan Arbor and Master Yoda trailed fingers and claws through the sprinkling system when it came on unexpectedly, making Obi-Wan laugh in his dream. When the first of all his senses returned to him, he heard his own measured breaths speed up with the return of full consciousness. Floating above Anakin in their loosely-rolled carpet and protected from Dooku's Force senses by the terentatek strips, he saw by the interior light of his helmet that Anakin remained in deep slumber. Anakin's closed eyes trembled with the movements of dreams. One last dream shimmered its way into Obi-Wan's Sight before he pinched his end of their bond in a mental wake-up call to his Padawan. An old lady with wrinkles from many smiles smiled a last smile for him as she put her worn hands on a youngling's thin shoulders. Obi-Wan recognized them from Anakin's descriptions as Kitster Banai and Jira. Before they faded, they mouthed, "Fight!" Full gravity returned with the transport's arrival on Dooku's estate's landing pad and Obi-Wan fell three decimeters on top of Anakin, a notorious slow awakener. _If this is fulfillment of Anakin's dream of my fall, good. It will stop him from further speculation. _The Force gave no hint as to the vision's veracity as Obi-Wan undid the seals of his helmet and placed it outside their textured cylinder in the webbing at the narrow end of the crate that would hold their suits. This suit was thin compared to the one that Siri and he had used on the platform and it had easy-off snapseals. He removed one gauntlet and slid a thumbnail under the seal at his waist. Automatically, the suit separated front to back and he rolled to one side, gathering up the suit halves and placed them with the helmet, drawing the end of the carpet together as best he could without the Force. _Kitster was in Anakin's pit crew, cheering him on, and Jira was kind to all the street children, Anakin said. We must be cautious. _He poked Anakin.

Anakin awoke without his customary snort and quickly shed his helmet and suit. With a nod to Obi-Wan and a shared touch of hands in a brief meditation of readiness, they awaited their unveiling. From the slight wobbling of their container and a sense of floating, they figured that servants shepherded the shipment via anti-gravs into a private chamber. Anakin strained outward to hear any clues as to their progress. He was partially successful when two of Dooku's servants told an obnoxious joke about nerfs and nerfherders' proclivities. Anakin had heard it before. Obi-Wan gave a little spasm at the punchline, but quieted soon enough. Anakin could feel him smiling against his neck. He wanted to bite him for it. _Since when am I the mature one, Master? Oh, here we go._

_At last. From the Jedi's vaunted noble past, a symbol of the Dark Side's superiority. _Technically, the terentateks who had been vanquished enough to be skinned to make this delightful confection represented a failure of the Dark Side's strength. But their hides lasted four thousand years to the present day of the Sith's ascendancy, as represented by himself, Count Dooku. This was a solemn moment, not to be tarnished by self-doubt as to his worthiness to succeed Lord Sidious. Dooku knelt in obeisance to the crate as if it were Sidious reincarnated. He swept back his cloak and undid the first magniseal catch.

_Hppshhhhh. _Anakin and Obi-Wan had no trouble hearing the catch's release. Five more would follow. They tensed.

_Hppshhhhh. _ Obi-Wan felt that a last minute change was in order. He squirmed rapidly to place himself head-to-toe with Anakin, pulling Anakin's braid with his boot in the process.

_Hppshhhhh. _Anakin turned his face aside, grimacing. He clenched his lightsaber hilt.

_Hppshhhhh. _Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders, tense and relax, tense and relax, loosen the sword arm.

_Hppshhhhh. _Simultaneously, the two Jedi closed their eyes and counted. _Five, four, three, two, one ..._

_Hppshhhhh. Ahhhhh. My prize. _With a grand gesture, Dooku tipped the crate swiftly on its side to give impetus to its disgorgement of the treasure inside that resisted all effects of the Force. As the dull green artifact unrolled towards him, he shunted aside the crate to the wall of his study, under the bay window and next to the out-of-place desk and chair that awaited proper placement of the new bit of furnishing. The heavy-duty duraplast box narrowly missed the stacks of boxed holocards and the astromech droid. The droid had no restraining bolt, all the better to be put to use immediately. Dooku approved of Palo's marketing techniques. He unrolled the carpet's last lengths with flicking motions of his hands, allowing himself a broad smile in his solitude._ It's mine!_

Anakin and Obi-Wan leapt from the carpet, Obi-Wan's defense up high and Anakin's down low. It was as well that they listened to the Force in this, because Dooku's Jar'Kai offense took them completely by surprise.

TBC


	38. Chapter 38

_A fully-revealed Sith advances, never retreats. _Dooku charged the two Jedi who both confronted and affronted him. _In my __**home**__!_ He Force-leaped to the desktop, a lightsaber arcing blood rays from each hand to lop off their offending heads. With a close-footed spin and flourish of his two red blades, he spun to see the carnage. _It t__akes a Sith to catch a Sith. And neither of you are Sith. _Dooku knew he had missed by millimeters, and there they were, _in his __**home**__,_ still defying him. How dare they? He back-flipped from the wall in a move that should have, _should_ have placed him between them and the door, but didn't. The two usurpers of his domain went on the offensive against the blades that he had won from the _Black Sun Souvenirs _auction house. The auction house dealt in black market items, more than _JediNow!_ did and so it was that he paid more attention to Ventress' curved-handle dual lightsabers than he ever had to her. Occasionally he wondered why the matched pair had stayed together, traveling from Boz Pity to _Black Sun Souvenirs,_ but he had not enough momentum beyond velleity to seek Ventress' or his former Padawan's, Komari Vosa's, Force-signature on them. They were tools that he had learned to use to a higher degree than in his Jedi swordsmanship dabbling with the form, because a Sith never stops learning, either. A Sith grows, evolves, and Lord Sidious' decade of instructions had impressed Dooku with the need to learn. So he obtained these lightsabers cheaply, he remembered Ventress' moves and improved on them as if her loss had been no loss at all. If he had had her from the beginning of her pathetic underprivileged life, he might have considered her as an apprentice. Now he had none, and was content. _Though at this moment, I might have sacrificed an apprentice as a pawn._

It was youngling's play to get inside Kenobi's guard and kick Kenobi's kneecap while pulling Skywalker's left forearm, making his Great-Grand-Padawan stumble into his off-balance Master. Dooku stepped backwards and against all his dignity, secured his lightsabers to his belt before dropping to the ground to roll on the carpet for some floorwork. He flung himself in a blindingly fast spin, knocking the Jedi off their feet to join him on the floor. In midair, Master and Padawan each checked his lightsaber into its clip to avoid an accident. Grunting, the Sith and the Jedi grappled for dominance.

Anakin slid himself behind Dooku, clamping his mechno-arm under Dooku's right arm and across his chest, grasping Dooku's left wrist. From there he went to a full Anakkona Rear Mount with his legs around Dooku's waist to hook his feet just inside Dooku's knees, pushing outward with his insteps. From here Dooku could shift a hip to create a wedge between their frames and gain leverage enough to break free. Anakin had no intention of allowing this. He crashed them both on their right sides.

_Good work, Padawan! _Obi-Wan slipped the popper syringe from his belt, flicked off the needle's protective cap and stuck the plastene cylinder between his teeth. He crawled to their struggling forms and ripped away Dooku's veda cloth collar, baring a white stretch of muscled neck, starkly pale against the ragged edges of the black cloth. Eyes wild as a reek's, pressure growing on his pivot vertebra and pharynx, Dooku struggled against Anakin's weight, thrashing as best he could despite the choke hold that Anakin pressed even harder.

"_Now_, Ma-- " Anakin made a beginner's error. To secure his grip even further, he crossed his ankles and squeezed Dooku's torso with his thighs. Dooku promptly brought his own ankles together and caught Anakin's legs in a powerful leglock. Anakin cried out as both heels' tendons came close to being crushed. Dooku smiled, upped the pressure, and broke the Anakkona Rear Mount in one of only a few successful ways.

_Padawan, you needed to put your right foot over Dooku's left arm and cross your ankles up there and then go for an armbar while controlling the far wrist, we practiced that. _Obi-Wan replaced the popper syringe's tethered protective cap as the three scrambled to their feet, Anakin favoring his right leg. This bred a pause, a battle stop.

Kenobi, panting, roughly-stubbled face far from the arrogant man in Geonosis' containment field. Skywalker, flexing that atrocious arm, eying him for an opening to re-engage. And himself, a Sith imbued with enough wit and brawn to master a new lightsaber form at eighty-three Standard years of age. They'll not know what hit them, he thought, and charged. _Crack-zzzzzpz_. His momentum was checked by a cable -- _from my new astromech droid? -- _that captured his right ankle. He fell to one knee, swinging both lightsabers like a Concord Dawn harvester's scythes at reaping time. The Jedi retreated. Well, they would since they considered him down for the count. _This Count is __**not**__ down, he's just begun to fight! _Without seeing his target, Dooku stabbed his lightsaber backwards and severed the cable. The droid screamed in a way that Dooku would have wiped out of his circuits and retracted its shorn cable into a duplicitous recess, undoubtedly filled with more treachery. _Palo of Naboo, I'm coming for you. _Before the accursed astromech could regroup, Dooku thought of a plan and bent his mind to it. The five boxes of holocards shook, opened and thousands of holocards flew like vibroshivs through the air towards the Jedi, a tornado of cutting plastene edges.

_Our own plan, against us ... _Obi-Wan made himself into a Hoth snow-wedge, shielding Anakin by the power of his mind's control over the Force. The Force obeyed his command, forming a Vev-shaped prow into the holocards, which flew to either side of the Jedi, some slicing into the expensive greel-wood panelling behind them where they quivered as if in a high wind. With the queer slowing down of time while in the embrace of the Force, Obi-Wan saw fly by his and Anakin's features on their special _Dual Duelling_ run of holocards. _How appropriate._

A thumping that Anakin had thought was coming from Artoo's anxious rocking on his treads localized in the door behind him, which cycled open jerkily. ARC6754 and the rest of his squad shinnied through the door, which had stuck at one-quarter diameter. Six took in the Jedi's ragged appearance and Anakin's limp as he signaled the troopers to fan out. The group of seven formed a half-circle around the beleaguered Count of Serenno.

_My astromech, now my aides turned against me? _Dooku_ felt_ the injustice of it all more than he had felt anything as an idealist in a long time. _This is not right! It's time for Juyo._ Dooku performed the split-second invocation of the technique that Mace Windu termed 'Vaapad.' Dooku now saw the room as if limned in red and black, the colors of the Zabrak assassin's Sith tattoos. _If Sidious had talked me into getting some of those ... no. He didn't even try._ Further and further he Fell even as he clipped the handles of the lightsabers together to form a saberstaff. Holding each handle in the peculiar style that he himself had originated, ARC397 was the first to fall to his blades' swath, the clone's weapon raised, trigger finger a millimeter from squeezing off a round. The two halves of the clone's body had not separated yet before they were joined by ARC58134 and ARC7811, both squeezing off wild rays of bolts in their death throes, none of which connected with a living being. On Dooku's reverse swipe, his aim was marred by that ungrateful ranking clone's steady firing and Dooku was forced to withdraw his rightmost blade into its hilt. _Blast, I didn't want them to know yet that I can vary the lengths of the blades in battle. _He parried the bolts effortlessly with his left hand.

_They're dead, I felt them die, poor brave lads. _Obi-Wan charged into the fray, trusting that Anakin would hold back and then cover his feint. _Thrust, parry, riposte, don't think of how much this duel resembles the one between Maul and Master Qui-Gon and myself._ Anakin flourished his own lightsaber, testing his leg, willing the pain away, sensing that his time to help was seconds away.

When Obi-Wan drew out Dooku into single combat, Six and ARC1830 stopped their barrage and dragged their brothers' halved corpses off to one side. There was no blood, though the clones wished for their helmets to filter out the sickening charred-flesh odor._ We'll see how His Countship deals with __**two**__ Jedi and __**two**__ commandos. _Six waited for an opening to aid his commanders.

_Obi-Wan, watch out, he's doing something strange -- _"Master!" -- _he's joining the hilts again and offsetting them into a Leth-shape, it's like he's doubling his range of motion -- _"I'm coming!" Anakin leaped next to Obi-Wan and as they saw the mounting danger in the ceaseless weaving of the blades whirring in Dooku's defense, they acted as one and cut at the center of the saberstaff. Dooku evaded the blow easily.

One danger in using a saberstaff is that its longer hilt-length means that its wielder must use it either horizontally or vertically with full extension of each blade while keeping the blades in constant motion. Many a practitioner of Form VII gave up learning a saberstaff's use beyond its basics due to the difficulty of Force-manipulating the lengths of each blade while in combat's chaos. Dooku had not given up. He cycled the bottom most blade to just over a half-meter in length, intending to present his right side to his antagonists as a smaller target while tipping the uppermost blade into Skywalker's right shoulder and, if Darkness prevailed, slanting all the way through to the Padawan's waist, carving away that hideous metal arm. Kenobi feinted back from their ill-conceived forward thrust, as if foreseeing Dooku's move, while the more inexperienced Skywalker continued towards Dooku on shaky legs. _You're stumbling into my range, all the better to __**kill**__ y-- _"No!" In a spinning movement that surely must have come from the rapture that Dark Side users experienced while standing on the terentatek carpet, Dooku's heady ambition to slay the Jedi's Chosen One led him to flip the shortened length of the saberstaff forward, leaving the opposite full length end stabbing and scorching its way into the green priceless rug and even into the floor._ What have I done?_

_**Now.**_ Obi-Wan threw Anakin forward with a Force-push after first shutting off Anakin's lightsaber and his own. Dooku's shock at his possession's damage was momentary and his grip on his staff loosened for a mere second, but that was enough to retract the deadly red beams. Anakin's chest smacked into Dooku's midriff and Obi-Wan dived after him while Six and ARC1830 rushed up to take a leg each.

As Obi-Wan shoved the popper syringe home below Dooku's jaw and saw the Sith's eyes roll up in his head, Anakin scrambled off Dooku's trembling form. "You could have warned a Padawan before using him as a battering ram," Anakin complained as he pulsed some Force-healing into his throbbing heels.

Obi-Wan sat back on his haunches, trying not to breathe in too deeply the stench of the mutilated clones. Artoo tweedled mournfully to himself.

_Meanwhile, on Naboo ... _

"What's your name? Your _real_ name?"

"Ferus, Representative Retbax."

"Mine is Ommane, and if you're here to accompany Dorme and Palo and me to the Ando Free Colonies Embassy Ball, I think first names are in order. You call me 'Ommane,' I'll call you 'Ferus,' Ferus."

"Very well. I'll call the transport around."

"'Ommane.'"

"Ommane."

"I already called the pilot, Ferus."

"You're efficient and timely."

"Qualities you like?"

"I ... yes, I do."

"Then we shall get along splendidly."

"What are you doing?"

"It's a warm summer evening. You don't need your hood. This is a masked ball."

"A hood will suit as well as a mask."

"But it makes you appear Jedi."

"And you know that I am not."

"Do I? Palo's botanist brother of whom I have never heard, here to cross-pollinate cloudflowers with flameflowers for a certain Fee Corporation. If you are successful, will you name a strain after me?"

"I will if you have the first dance with me."

"The second it must be. The first belongs to the Ambassador. Don't they teach you etiquette at Coruscant, I mean Theed, University?"

"I don't believe you'll want to do much dancing after he tromps your toes, Ommane."

"It's true, Aqualish swim gracefully, but on land they tend to ... lumber. Here, this extra mask may fit you."

"I can tie it on myself."

"But I'm here, so you don't need to. There. It's silver, like your hair, in part."

"'Silver' is a nice way of saying, 'gray,' Ommane."

"I color mine out."

"But you're nineteen Standard!"

"And you're twenty-four. Life in a responsible position in wartime is hard, Ferus. I think you've seen a lot of hardness, too."

"I can't wait for the war to end. It blocks research, it hardens our hearts, it blocks ... um, the space lanes for travel ... "

"Your research, yes, of course. Do you like to cross-pollinate, Ferus?"

"I've never done it, successfully I mean, between cloudflowers and flameflowers. If I'm successful, I'll name the first avatar 'Suspicion,' after you."

"That's not very flattering, Ferus."

"I can see through you."

"Now that's insulting. And I thought we were getting along so well."

"You _are_ efficient. And you love our world. Have you been offplanet other than as a Senatorial duty to Coruscant?"

"To Coruscant, yes. I'm not interested in travel for pleasure. Where is that pilot?"

"There are downlevel pleasures there, the next time you go. I could give you directions."

"Ferus!"

"What? I mean the lowest level that anyone could go to, the Western Sea. On the northern hemisphere. You must not travel much when you go there. You can't _get_ any lower than sea level, Ommane."

"No, no, Ferus. You're right. And what do you enjoy most about the Western Sea?"

"Beyond snorkeling, I think ... maybe ... "

"Yes, what dark secret yearning does a _botanist_ plant down deep?"

"I'd like to have my own home on the shore. I don't have any funding, though, I mean for other things than research. I haven't Palo's talent, or business sense ... "

"Or family resemblance, but that's all right, Ferus. Eh, here's the pilot. We'll shoot over to Dorme and Palo's in a Coruscant minute."

"After you, Ommane."

TBC


	39. Chapter 39

From Dooku's estate's Docking Bay Two to the south hangar in the Temple two days later, all Six could think of was the crystal droids. Firing strategies, blanket bombing, mud traps to immobilize them, how _could_ they be stopped? When the General and the Commander took turns monitoring Dooku, when they left the night shift to his supervision and retired to the pilot's cabin originally meant for any organic pilot, he replayed the scenario of the crystal droid's demonstration in his head. Even on the way out _to_ the docking bay, when a solicitous crone inquired to Dooku's well-being and pressed the Commander masquerading as Dooku to take along 'something nourishing for the trip,' Six waited out the Commander's fierce fake anger as his mind marched elsewhere, his body guarding the crate with his brothers' remains inside. Plans had been reshaped as circumstances in the field demanded: Dooku's unconscious body wrapped in the carpet, along with the uncomplaining General, drooped on top of the crate on the anti-grav that the smart little droid tugged along. The Commander made a passable Dooku with makeup, voice modulator and clothing even darker than his usual attire.

"A little bit of Whyren's '80923 Reserve, then, to soothe your nerves after your upset, Milord Dooku. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't suggest that, I've been in your family's employ since you were a youngling playing in the rose gardens, do you remember, Milord -- "

"Go. Away."

"I've grown ancient on this estate. Serving you is all that I have left -- "

_"Give_ the flask to me, then, woman. And leave me."

"You'll thank me later, Milord." The woman's rheumy eyes beamed as much as they could and Six could see that the Commander's dramatic talents were being strained when the Jedi draped one side of his midnight-black cloak over the lower half of his face and glared fiercely at the old woman as if to mesmerize her with his intensity. Six figured that part of his task on this mission was to shore up any deceptions and butted in.

"Milord Dooku, to make the optimal launch window for Naboo, we must leave _now_," Six had said, ignoring the female as his role called for him to do.

"Ahhhh, a _helpful_ aide. Come along, clone, _quickly_." The woman's wizened face was the last human's outside of his group that Six saw on Serenno. He knew that he would never reach either her span of years or Dooku's. It had to mean something that his life thus far had held only fighting and that he was content with that. _This is the 'something unfinished' that I thought of on Ansion. Am I growing a Force-connection? _It didn't feel at all like the General had described. Most likely, it was the result of wishful thinking.

On the second night out, after sharing a meal of rations no different than thousands of others the squad had engulfed, the General tipped his plastene cup against the Commander's and announced, "Today is my Padawan's twenty-third Lifeday. In a strictly Jinn-to-Kenobi-to-Skywalker tradition, I present him with a rock." The General handed the Commander a clear cube containing a beige thumb-sized stone. _Another Jedi peculiarity. _Six smiled politely. "This is from Dooku's desktop. It's refined cortosis."

Six and ARC1830 raised their own cups. "To you, Commander. A Happy Lifeday to you." _We're the same physiological age. _The clones drained their vitamin water, thinking of their brothers in cold storage.

"Rare and expensive. Thank you, Obi-Wan." The Commander tipped his cup against the General's and they linked arms to sip from each other's vessels.

"There is _something_ we need to do before retiring, gentlemen, and after that, we'll see you in the morning." The General took the Commander's mechno-hand. Six hoped that they had enough privacy to celebrate the day properly. _I think their quarters are soundproofed enough._

"Very well, sir. Good night." Six took first watch with the droid pilot, welcoming the vista of starlines to help focus his thoughts. _The crystal droids must have a fault line somewhere. _

IOIOIOIOIO

"He's resting comfortably, Obi-Wan. All signs stable. What was the thing that was so important?" _Sweetheart, everything is on point to get very busy when we return to the Temple. I suggest we stabilize Dooku for the night and then ourselves._

_I can't wait to get you alone. _Obi-Wan stared down at Dooku's plastene-shielded medical capsule. "There are inhalants to keep him under. He's in binders, yet still he's dangerous, Anakin."

"The possible ally spying back at the Temple, you mean."

"Yes. It might be better to take him to CorSec."

Anakin placed his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Whatever changed him to Sith leanings was in him a long time, Obi-Wan. Sidious is dead, not on any plane of existence we can name. Whoever else is in Dooku's camp _cannot_ be as steeped in the Dark Side as Sidious was, you know that. You've felt it in Council and even I have, just, just in daily meditation. The Darkness is a rough gale, not a hurricane."

Obi-Wan looped his arm around Anakin's waist. "Yes, but even a weaker user of the Dark Side can get close to Dooku while he is in this thing" -- he tapped the capsule -- "and free him."

"And what would we, his Jedi guards, be doing in the meantime? Dooku's not all-powerful, Obi-Wan. No one is." _It's my Lifeday, Dooku is captured and I had a great deal to do with it. Life is good._

Obi-Wan wrenched his gaze from the capsule to something much more pleasant: Anakin's eyes. "Thanks for reminding me. My arm and leg scars remind me of other things, though."

Anakin traced Obi-Wan's bicep. "They are nearly invisible. I am the only one, except for Master Lu, who sees you up close enough to notice them." He steered them towards their cabin, away from Dooku.

Obi-Wan winked at him as they walked along. "I do believe, Anakin, that this transport reminds me of Gelgelar and the need to be quiet. Can you do that thing with the dial in your arm again?" They halted in the companionway as the ship's lighting dimmed to 'night.' It masked them in shadows.

"You do it." Anakin rolled down his glove enough for Obi-Wan to access the cortical interface sensor in his wrist. By touch alone, Anakin dialed the cortical interface intensity up one notch to 'audible' and when Obi-Wan encoded 'input directly to cortex' on the sensor and their fingers brushed, they both jumped.

"In my head, it whispered 'simmering heat.'"

"I heard it better this time. Must be the clearness of the connection, the lack of humid-- " Obi-Wan broke off. "It's going to be better, now that I know what is inside me." He twisted the door's handle and they stepped through to the unembellished cabin.

"What is?"

"You know what."

"This?" Anakin rasped the other Jedi's jaw with one finger of his mechno-hand, hardly a sensual move.

"Something jumped inside me."

"How about this?" Anakin sat down on the bunk and drew Obi-Wan down with him. They stared at each other awkwardly. Anakin rolled up his glove.

Obi-Wan took the initiative and kissed him as firm as his handshake always was. He waited until Anakin had begun to respond before pulling back and saying, "It _is_ better, it's like complementary sensations, one receding, the other advancing, then they take turns." He advanced to outlining Anakin's growing erection outside his leggings, then dipping his hand under the lacings and through the onesy's fly. "Now, _this_ is different, too -- "

"Kriff, Obi-Wan, you're not going to _analyze_ everything, are you?" Anakin rolled himself on top of Obi-Wan and was surprised when Obi-Wan rolled him back.

"Take _this,_ for example," Obi-Wan continued, rubbing himself on top of Anakin during an interval when his left leg slid in between Anakin's thighs and his right knee came to rest at Anakin's hip. He frotted roughly until Anakin snapped his head forward, straining to intensify the connection._ Always on the move, Padawan. This time we'll move together. _This odd juxtaposition was as uncomfortable as in the bunk at Threxa's Boarding House, but at least there was a porthole to look out.

Anakin clenched Obi-Wan's ass with his mechno-hand while moving himself faster. If this was what Obi-Wan wanted tonight, he'd give it to him. The interface whispered 'boiling point.' Anakin leaned up on one elbow and they rocked until Obi-Wan came with a shout. Anakin wanted to make it last, but the jostling he was giving a slack Obi-Wan seemed obscene until he looked out the porthole, catching Obi-Wan's expression in the transparisteel's reflection. Eyes wide open in their cabin's gloom, Obi-Wan's illumined face glowed into serene beauty as he calmly watched his lover come to completion. Anakin quivered and rolled off scorched muscles. His breathing returned to normal. _What a strange time and did I just hear the interface say, 'Powering down now'?_

Obi-Wan skimmed down Anakin's glove and reset the two calibrations back to normal himself by the light of the starlines. In a while they would rise and change into comfortable clothing. In a while. "Happy Lifeday, Anakin," he whispered.

Anakin wiped away tears. "It was different for me, too," he replied.

_Meanwhile, in the Jedi Temple Council Chambers ... _

_"_Bead of Completion, have you?"

"Check. Knife sharpened?"

Yoda drew a claw against the durasteel. A thin paring of keratin drifted to the tile floor. "Check. Holocam prepared?"

Padawan Zukassa knew the importance of recording the Knighting of the Chosen One for the Order, for the Republic and certainly for the Master of the Chosen One. "All systems go!"

Yoda smiled. "Your day will come in the Force's good time, Padawan. Ten years, fly by they will." _How will the Order be different in ten years, Yoda? What changes will this Padawan see?_ When all was prepared, Yoda and the Padawan sealed the box of ritualized contents and left it under Yoda's repulsor chair. Zett held the door open with the Force as the aged Grandmaster made his way through.

"Master Saa, good morning to you." The hot sun bathed the Neti in life-sustaining rays as she stood stockstill by the open window, her stiff hair glowing amber.

"Master Yoda, the best of mornings to you, too. And it will be the best of days when Dooku arrives for his incarceration. This afternoon at the west hangar, is it not?"

"At last, at last, Master Saa, I will see my old Padawan and demand answers along with a very bitter reckoning. What comes next, the legal authorities shall advise us. Legal training you have had, true?"

T'ra Saa smiled her adopted Romin smile that enchanted Tholme. "Long years ago, yes. I could not advise anyone now. Times have changed."

TBC


	40. Chapter 40

"It's nice to be here today, Lu, even a bit boring. I could use 'boring' right now. When I go back to the front, there'll be enough excitement to pass around." Obi-Wan had not exercised yet this afternoon and did not desire to sit. He eyed the infirmary's equipment more closely than usual, especially the operating suite in a large room to the right of Luminara's desk, its ominous entrance a continuous purple sterifield flanked by bright transparisteel windows that stretched floor-to-ceiling. There was a table inside fit for Galactic Standard-sized patients and a Healer of Luminara's height. The table had a flat, utilitarian look with some disturbing straps hanging down and the only out-of-place element was on the far wall, a holoposter of a flamegem with a spiral design that most likely was used to distract patients before they succumbed to anesthesia. "Do you think my procedure could wait until next week, maybe? Something's come up." _Anakin's Knighting tomorrow is private until Master Yoda declares otherwise. _He adjusted his tabards as he turned back to his friend, wanting this entire episode closed, safe in the past. At least no one would invade his mind for this. _This is simply a physical thing that can be removed, like a wart._

_My friend is a pregnant Jedi, not a term I'd ever thought to use. _ Now the evidence of the Master and Padawan pair's closeness was staring her in the face and she could shunt aside the knowledge of post-Code Revision love and its logical results no longer. "Ahem. Obi-Wan. You'd better sit." _That kriffing imprinting. Plo, you don't know what you've unleashed for my friend._

_Guh. 'Sit.' Bad news coming._ Obi-Wan sat. He noticed the way that Luminara smoothed her cowl to hang exactly even on each side. He noticed her deep intake of breath. He waited.

"I hope that boredom is the worst thing that ever happens to you."

"Do you say that to all your patients or just me?"

"I'm not taking the cloned organ out before consulting with you further because there's something in it."

_"What? _B-But the, the menses, I had them once and y-you said, you _said,_ Lu, th-that in _nongravid_ health, they flow freely, in _health,_ Lu, you _said -- " _

_"_The bleeding is something that females occasionally have when they are newly pregnant." _He's as mottled as Bant now._

_"_I don't recall much from Winna's and An-Paj's lectures, Lu, but I _do_ remember that menses _stop_, and anyway, _you said -- _it _can't _be true, it can't -- "

_Be his Healer._ "But they don't always," Luminara said crisply. "Sometimes light bleeding goes on at the regular time, at least for a month or two while the body's hormones adjust, and yours have. No more of that symptom, right?"

"No. Kriff, Lu, I thought at first it might be spleenrot or something fixable like that. You can always do without a spleen, right?"_ This can't be true. It's mine and Anakin's. Not Siri's and mine, no. It's mine and Anakin's. It's mine and Anakin's._

_And so we go on to the next part. _"Well, this _is_ fixable, Obi-Wan, if you choose to, and then I can remove _everything _-- "

"No."

_Be his friend. _"Don't you want to ask Anakin on this?"

"No, I do not. We've discussed the possibility and I know where he stands because we _are_ closer than ever before and _**why**_ didn't this show up on the earlier exam?" _Before I wrestled with the Dark Sider and endangered it?_

"The area couldn't be discerned clearly until today. The Force obscured them, I told you that before you left. Today my scanner works on your uterus, but not my Force-senses, at least not normally. They simply tell me that you and they are well without giving more details." _They are safe swimming around inside you and anything that would injure them would injure you too severely to worry about them. And now there's that worry wrinkle on your brow. Poor man. _"Obs, you _are_ well."

"Them."

"Yes."

"Tw-- "

"Yes."

"Wh-- "

"Early next spring."

"H-- "

"I'll remove them surgically. I've done it once or twice with civilians on New Hospice when they were caught in the crossfire." _But never twins. Thirty-six weeks total instead of forty, most likely. Thirty-two to go._

"Is there _any other way?"_

"The clones' way, with tanks. Kaminoan, or we could import something -- "

_I love them already. And I want the best for them._ "No tanks," Obi-Wan said firmly. "And no decanting. These babies will be _born._ Maybe not completely naturally, but close enough. And that's the way it will be."

_I didn't want to push decanting anyway. As close to natural as possible is always best, and now my article will be unique! _Luminara wrote the abstract swiftly in her head as she gestured to him to sit still. She fine-tuned her scanner for a second sweep, more in detail than the first. Could be ectopic, could be implanted in the lining dangerously near the outlet tube -- could a name be generated for the tube, something like "Unduli's Outlet" -- no, not that self-serving, perhaps "Jedi Cross-Gender Flow Valve." _Hmmm, no, ectopic or an analog to placenta previa conditions are definitely __**un**__healthy, the Force wouldn't lead my diagnosis wrong there. _Luminara stopped herself from humming as she noticed her friend's befuddlement. In her mind's eye, she scrolled to the first page of her article. "_Jedi: pregnant male Master, age thirty-eight, human. Partner: male Padawan, age twenty-three, human."_ Luminara saw as irrelevant that Anakin was Obi-Wan's very own Padawan. Nobody else needed to know any more cogent details, outside the Order. She wondered how Adi would take this news. It would certainly cement her arguments for making a schism in the Order.

In a blur, Obi-Wan saw Luminara's lips say her usual "mmhmmm"s and "hold your breath"s and "excellent"s. When all was still after her work and she looked at him as if he were the most fascinating creation in the galaxy, he grabbed her hand and placed it against him, using her talents along with his own to search within himself. There was nothing that he could discern in the Force, no beating hearts, no nascent brainwaves, only the murmur of his own echoed heartbeat. He pushed her hand harder against him. There, a sheltered spot, like when he used Luminara's sinus clearing technique while floating on Gitchy's broad waters. He had not been able to _sense_ the bones of his own skull, only the channels leading to his congested sinuses. It was the same here; the womb inside him was as protected as if it were solid bone, no way of reaching inside it to probe with the Force. _The scanner worked, science worked, but not the Force in this case. _He would have to take her word for his condition today, or else request to see her scanner's output in detail._ What would it show? A blob with two smaller blobs inside, she said the readings were minimal, maybe some other time I can stand to look, uh, I have to ask ..._

"Luminara, will the babies have allergies like mine used to be? Is there any way to prevent them from forming?"

_You are already thinking ahead, how like you. _"Some allergies can't be avoided, Obi-Wan. Yours weren't so bad." _Except for that hoi-broth one. That is an absolute Jedi-Killer._

"They're inconvenient, and, and noisy. Sneezing, coughing, wheezing, you name it. What if the little, uh, Someones are on a mission and need to sneeze and there would be a surveillance assignment blown right there -- "

Luminara said gently, "Obi-Wan, there's nothing to say your children will or will not be Force-sensitive. It's the Force's way to ensure complete democracy and a meritocracy in the Jedi, not to mention the Republic." Mace thought this way, and Luminara agreed with him, though she did think a dynasty of Jedi might not be a bad thing. Pride in being _part_ of such a dynasty could lead to the Dark Side, though, and the thought of selective breeding of Force-sensitives appalled her. As a Healer and a scientist, it was part of her speculative life, not that she ever wanted it to become reality. Some things were best left to authors of fiction.

"Well then, _why_ is the Force protecting them so strongly, if they aren't Force-sensitive?" _If Bant weren't indisposed, I'd ask her. I need a second opinion._

This was getting them nowhere. Luminara made to end this appointment. Her fifth hour was due. "Maybe because they aren't, and you are. Maybe because they are below your range of heightened midichlorians, Obi-Wan. Maybe they are _above _it. When you know every last way of the Force, you let me know, won't you." _This is beyond my experience, too. _"_Until_ then, a little meditation to clear our minds?"

"Fine. Yes." The lines on Obi-Wan's face took several minutes to fade. "All, all right, Lu. This isn't your fault, any of it. It's no one's fault." _I can't negotiate out of this._

_He's resting his hand over them. He's trying to include them in his meditation unconsciously. _"First level, begin."

_I'll breathe for you, littles, until you can breathe on your own. "_Begun."_ My Telling-Upsetting-News kata, yes, Anakin and I must go for an evening flight tonight. And I can't tell him about his Knighting. Oh, Mother. _The Force held him sure and strong and he gave in to its embrace.

_Meanwhile, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains ... _

Late afternoon generally was a quiet time for the peaceful room and the two Jedi entertaining each other did not notice that they were alone. "T'ra, you're off your form." Tholme's avatar monnok waved the club that it had used to brain T'ra's houjix. The poor creature hadn't stood a chance.

T'ra trembled. "What do you mean by that?" Their cloaks lay discarded behind their bench and she had thought to detain Tholme on them for a leisurely hour or two. Condensation from the burbling fountains dripped from her brow.

"I mean, my dear, that usually you have me at the end of your blade by now in this game." Tholme tapped the base of the dejarik board and his monnok gave a final screech before derezzing. "Tell me what's wrong." _Tell me why you aren't the same. For all your shapeshifting talents, you were unchanging in your essence to me through the years. And now you're not. _

_He suspects. _"What's the use? We'll never agree."

"Try me." _I have a bad feeling about this._

"Haven't you felt stifled by your years, Tholme? Didn't you want to have, to _feel_ something different each day, the way you did when you were young?" _To cast your seed and see it take root, to know that your kind will be replenished?_

_Our differences, of course we're different. We've weathered so many storms and droughts together, though. _"So you're bored, T'ra? With everything, me included?" He placed a hand on her knee and slid it up to mid-thigh. Her muscles were like rock beneath his touch.

_"_Adi is leaving. She is deserting your precious Order, Tholme, the Order that you've fought, lied and cheated for."_ There's no hope. _"There's no hope here in the Order _or _the Republic, Tholme, no hope at all," T'ra said, changing and stretching to a shape that Tholme had never seen before. Her long gown popped open with the strain as she resumed her natural thick grayish body. Her fingers split and split again. She retained her Romin head. The fingers reached for him and enfolded him before he could shout for help. He dropped from the bench and tried to crawl away from her, but her tendrils grasped his bad leg and then they hurt him with their rough bark as she pulled him towards her middle. She swallowed him inside her, crooning. "You are strong in the Force, but I am strong, too, Tholme, and all I need to do, _all_ I need to do, is delay you until Dooku is freed. Come rest inside me, love."

"You're _hollow, _where is the rest of you, mfffff-- " A tendril bulged into Tholme's mouth and he bit down to no avail. He gasped for air, but it seemed enough for T'ra to immobilize him. The bark grew around him evenly, and when Master Ali-Anann led the Bear Clan on their nature walk to relax before bedtime, Initiate Liam found Tholme's cane and gave it to Ali-Anann for safekeeping. Behind the stone bench on the path stood a zaela tree with shivering needles, but no one took special note of it.

TBC


	41. Chapter 41

"If you _think_ I can sleep after hearing this news, Obi-Wan - "

"I can't either." Obi-Wan rolled over to face Anakin, the movement releasing the scent of flowers in the fresh sheets. The summer breeze ruffled the sheers and they lay nude in its caress. Coruscant's endless noise was filtered by the Temple's efficient sound blocking system. Anakin had disabled the _Wake Up Naturally, Every Time!_ program for tonight. He knew his racing mind would not let him rest and tomorrow, after all, would be an ordinary day between missions.

Anakin inhaled deeply. "Names. I suppose you are thinking of names." Master Yoda had leaped at the chance to have input on that subject when they had faced him with their news together. It had been a long afternoon.

"It's too soon. I'm still processing." Obi-Wan rubbed his chin. "But now that you mention it - "

"Stop. Let's leave the Unifying Force alone for tonight, and maybe it'll leave us alone, too." He patted Obi-Wan's arm. "All right?"

"Yes. Live for the moment. Qui-Gon would have approved." _What would you say to all this, Master?_

"So, we still on for sparring after morning meditation?" _Just how careful do I need to be with you now?_

"Yes." _For a while._

_Can we fool around?_ "What about sex?"

"It's great, why do you ask?" _This news, and his Knighting tomorrow. My mind is on overload._

"I mean with you. And me."

"Still great. What did you have in mind?"

"Something like the Anakkona Rear Mount."

_"Well, _I was thinking about the Togorian Triangle."

"That's a little ... athletic. Wouldn't the trapeze make you dizzy?"

"No more than the sling would."

"Let's not, and say we did."

"I'm, uh, in the mood for _something_, Anakin." The intimate tickle of the breeze blew a strange notion into the room. _"_The veranda!"

"It's scratchy, that wicker settee."

"No, behind the palm trees. We could pretend we're back on Trow." Obi-Wan grew more animated. He leaped up and gathered the comforter at the foot of the bed. "Come on." He plumped up the comforter and lay it down between their three palm trees, calling to mind their awakening desires in the common area during the Mother's Festival of Plenitude. _A little late for that now, although the Mother would be pleased at these developments. I wonder how Kuki is getting along with __**her**__ baby. _

Without a word, Anakin lay down and lifted his leg, pulling Obi-Wan close. "Like that first time, _Master_."

_Oh, stars, yes. _Obi-Wan kissed Anakin's bicep as he slid behind his soon-to-be Knighted Padawan, laying his length between Anakin's thighs from behind. Anakin squeezed rhythmically, pulling at his own cock until Obi-Wan took over. Long pulls and short, stabby ones, killing thrusts and unnumbered kisses led them along the Jedi path. Anakin came first, willing himself to hold out as long as he could. Obi-Wan was a machine with control that Anakin had never seen before. Fully twenty minutes passed before Obi-Wan came with a muted _hah!_ and a pinch of Anakin's tattooed nipple. Anakin braced himself against the pain. It was a welcome pain. He used the settee cushion to wipe them both off.

"Love ... you ... darling. No matter ... what ... happens." _What a mission we are on together. There are no texts and plenty of tests. Will we pass?_

"I think I can sleep now, _Master."_

_"'Obi-Wan'._"

_Back to reality. _"Obi-Wan, let's go inside."

"Let's not. Look at the stars, dozens of them through the haze."

"Some of them are satellites."

"Mood-buster. Come here, like on Olanet. We'll keep each other warm."

"You're warm _again?_"

"Erm, yes, isn't it odd, I seem to be turbo tonight, I'll take care of it _myself,_ you don't have to bother, Ana_kooooooo,_ uhhhh, th-thanks, _nggg_, oh ... "_ My Knight. I think I'll keep him._

_We'll be tired for our sparring session, but who cares? _Anakin swallowed everything happily and dreamed that night of accipipteros crowing in a Dagoban forest, heralding a new day. The next morning, when Obi-Wan led him to the Council chambers for "a brief consult with Master Yoda," he didn't suspect a thing.

IOIOIOIOIOIO

"I release myself from your authority, my Master, permanently and only for your greater good. I recognize that all the Jedi that I am, I owe to your training and promise to remember my life under your authority always. I will touch you without asking permission as you touch me in the normal way of things. May The Force Be With Us." The near-darkness of the chamber hid Anakin's tear-filled eyes. He blinked back the moisture.

"May The Force Be With Us All. I accept your release and place the Bead of Completion in your sigil of Padawanship." Obi-Wan undid the strings at the end of Anakin's braid and secured the blue Bead before retying the tough threads.

Yoda dubbed each of Anakin's shoulders within the width of one of Obi-Wan's whiskers. The ozone from his green lightsaber tinged the air with Jedi scent. "Knighted you are, Anakin Skywalker." _Parent, you are, and Knight, too. Changes in the galaxy, in me. Deal with this, I can. Deal without Padme, I can. Know now, I do, how union between Force-sensitive and Force-blind ends. Lesson, it was. Padawan in love, I am. Grandmaster, I was not._

"Master Yoda."

"Hmmm?"

"The knife." The earnestness in Zett's voice made Yoda's ears twitch. "Master Yoda, I'll get it for you."

"Have it here, I do. Presume, you will not." Yoda handed the knife to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan firmed the plait in his hand. _Between his neck and my fingers, no difference in our flesh. I'm cutting myself as much as I am cutting him. _Obi-Wan cut the braid with one sure stroke. He handed the knife back to Yoda. He kept the braid.

The Force singing around him, Anakin lightly rose to his feet. _So this is it._ Muscle memory said his braid still depended, but muscle memory could be retrained. He lifted his head. It didn't matter that eight of the twelve Masters were only holograms. It mattered that the most important Master in the galaxy was at his side, right where he belonged.

'_Lover,' 'old friend.' What do I call you now? 'Darling' will have to do. _Obi-Wan drew closer. "Darling," he whispered before the rest of the Council clustered around them. Even the holograms seemed brighter today. Each blue Master bowed to Anakin and he bowed back. The solid Councilmembers repeated their own bows solemnly, then relaxed. Saesee Tiin clamped a massive paw on Anakin's shoulder while Ki-Adi-Mundi unbent enough to pump Anakin's hand.

Adi placed her hands on Anakin's shoulders and leaned in to kiss the air above each cheek. "Forgive me for leaving so soon, Knight Skywalker. I have duties." She bowed deeply in the way that her diplomat parents had taught her and departed.

_Meanwhile, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains ... _

It was time, it was _past_ time. Adi calmed herself. For a Spymaster, Tholme had a relaxed time sense. Maybe that was the unwoven strand from all the tangled threads he wove each day, the loose end always kept open for possibilities. Adi meditated in her usual way, palms outstretched to gather strength. A zaela needle fell on her thumb. There was a crunching sound behind her, a slither and a _plop_. She jumped to her feet and whirled, lightsaber aglow. There was a spy loose in the Temple, and one couldn't be too careful.

"Adi," croaked Tholme. "Help."

"Tholme?"

Beyond all reason, there sprawled crippled Tholme on the grass behind the bench while a creaking, rustling _thing _extruded two branches to pick Tholme up under his arms. He snarled through cracked lips. "Let me go!"

"In due time, love," T'ra Saa's voice whispered. Tholme kicked backwards and Adi extended one hand to him, lightsaber dialed down to dagger size to spear the thing with T'ra's voice if necessary. There was a whimper from unseen lips. "I haven't the will to fight you, Adi. I'm all used up." T'ra had absorbed all Tholme's struggles and sweat and abuse. She crackled herself into that shape that nearly all the Temple knew her as: a slender near-human Romin in her mid-forties. But something was missing from her, Tholme could tell.

"Your battle heart is not in you. You've split, you're left with - "

"Only my nurturing self, the part that calms you." She had neglected to refresh all the simulated physical responses and Adi found her golden unblinking stare unnerving. She couldn't imagine Tholme's thoughts at the moment.

"_Where_ is the rest of you?" Tholme wavered on his feet and with one firm arm, Adi took over his support from T'ra. "_**Where?**_" Tholme shouted.

T'ra was as serene as a tree drooping over a still pond. "I've done my part. Farewell, Tholme," her needles sighed before her arms and legs and lips melded into one trunk.

"T'ra!" Tholme's voice cracked. "Answer me!" It was as if she listened only to herself, and then to no one.

_Thank the stars she's not mobile in this shape. _"Tholme, snap out of it! What did she do? What danger does she represent? What do we do next?"

"Dooku, she said someone was freeing Dooku. Help me to his cell!" Tholme lay a great portion of his weight on Adi as the two hustled to the door. Adi clipped her lightsaber to her belt and bobbled out her commlink with which she had been keeping touch with Siri and ARC5231. Their plans for moving out from the Temple became more complicated as time went on, instead of less.

"Siri! Come in, Siri!" _Kriffit, she's out looking for likely homes on Dantooine today. _Among the crowd of Jedi running towards their commotion was Regork, his tail stretched out behind him for balance as he sprinted across the wide room.

"Adi! What'ss happening?"

"Here, take Tholme to Dooku's cell, two levels down, eastern sector." Regork bent down so that Tholme could clasp both arms around the Glarsaur's black neck and straddle his broad red back. Regork's claws ripped divots in the greensward as he took off madly to the area designated for the Temple's only prisoner. This was yet another day of Dooku's incarceration in a Force-dampered meditation chamber, a period of reflection and hopefully penitence for the awakened Sith Lord as he awaited Yoda's and Tholme's interrogation. So far Dooku's absence had made no difference in the war. Intel reported one battle with widespread deployment of a startling new type of droid made of crystal. Sound weapons made no incursions on its might in battle, and Grievous had been reported as sarcastically gleeful as ever as he hacked and hewed. _Dooku can't return to the war. It's up to me._ All this swirled through Adi's Councilmember mind before she barked the next order. "You. Stay here and keep watch on _that _zaela tree. It's a shapeshifter. Take no chances." She spun. "You. Comm Master Yoda and tell him that there is a threat to free Dooku." She accosted a Whiphid who could have been K'Kruhk's spawn, if the Jedi did such things. "Knight, come with me to the west hangar." Something _ping_ed there in warning. "The rest of you alert each hangar to halt all flights and ground departures. _All_ of them!" she tossed over her shoulder from the doorway. In the hall was a smashed cheap statue that Regork's tail had probably swept into chalky fragments in his dash for the turbolift. She leaped over the mess, taking off at right angles to his path, the Knight galloping to keep up.

TBC


	42. Chapter 42

The Dark Side was here, in the Temple, Adi thought. Besides Dooku, something oozed its way into the very nexus of Jedi beacons of the Light, something sneaky and spying, perhaps in the Map Room, though the pull from the Force came strongest from the west hangar. _I wasn't deluded. Sometimes paranoia is __**justified. **_Regork said so, though he didn't use the word 'paranoia.' He hissed 'ssusspicionss,' instead. Adi thought back to her last meeting with him in his sparse quarters under his basking lamp. Soothing warmth and light, geared to avoid any depression due to winter's darkness by brightening one's mind as well as one's soul, the lamp was a perfect place to insert a listening device. Jedi confessions, worries concerning battle strategies, no, not strategies, but inclinations or a chance dropping of a planet's name that would lead to decisions being made ..._decisions ... _ Adi skidded to a halt. "You. Go to Soul Healer Regork's quarters and pretend to fetch something for him. Talk to yourself."

Bursting with purpose and desire to help, the Whiphid flamed in the Force. "What about, Master?"

"Mutter about how boring it will be on Dantooine when you accompany the Olanet Three Hundred and the Jedi geriatrics to the Old Folks' Home there. Say you don't know why the old draigons couldn't pass into the Force properly in the Temple."

The Knight caught his breath and blinked his long lashes. He rubbed the circular tusk in use as his lightsaber ring nervously. "I-I'd never _say _that -- "

"It's a ruse to trick who's listening in, oh, never mind, just do it! Take ten minutes to rustle around and then rejoin me at the west hangar." _No need to tiptoe about this now, Adi._ "There is a listening device in Regork's lamp that the Separatists planted. Stomp around his quarters and make noise but _speak_ near the lamp, got it?"

"Dantooine. Old Folks' Home. Temple. Near the lamp. Got it, Master." His forearm muscles bulged enough to nearly split his tunic before he replaced his lightsaber on his belt and pelted down the hall.

The lamp near where Jedi in need told their troubles housed a small diode that peeked out of the switch, where Soul Healer Regork's claws could not feel it. Someone _knew _a Glarsaur would operate this lamp, be insensitive to its small bubble of a diode, someone in Dooku's thrall had planted this lamp in the auction for Regork. And now the deception would be used against the Dark and for the Light. _A light, in use against the Dark. Appropriate._ Adi had never had a vision, yet this was real as a vision. She knew that something vile listened to their plans to cut the feet out from under the Jedi. Planting the lead to Dantooine as she had planted intel for Tholme was a _good _thing. _Wait, Adi. You're at the west hangar. Don't charge in there alone. _She peeked around the corner of thedoor from the Temple staging area after casting her senses into the large space. _Is a Dark Sider in there? Is there? Is there? _She was slightly over the top and knew it. Her senses murmured a reply. Along with six Force-blind beings inside, there blossomed a pure flower of selfish need, polluting the Force from a single being. Adi brushed aside a decoration from her Tholoth headdress that blocked her left eye and looked again. _Master __**Yoda**__?_

Yoda must have flown his repulsor chair at breakneck speed to get to the hangar before her, but then, he would. He was circling a idling Jedi transport, obviously helping a civilian employee check its readiness. He moved stiffly, as if his phenomenal age had finally caught up with him. There was a smell of another transport's exhaust, the peculiar smell of ion engine exhaust in the takeoff stage. The transport that Yoda circumnavigated had not yet reached that stage. Adi's heart dropped. _Someone has left recently. I'm finding out who._

"Master Yoda!" Adi trotted into the hangar, stopping in confusion a few meters away from Yoda. This was odd, this was unheard-of. After years on the Council interpreting his speech patterns and deciphering his cryptic phrasing, she had thought she had seen everything. She had fantasized that she was his friend at times, and at other times his Padawan in the Jedi manner, and all of the time, she had respected him. This interpretation of him was new.

Yoda stopped tagging along in lockstep with the transport tech, but continued moving, rocking back and forth strangely on his feet that were shoulder-width apart. He moved one foot backwards and then back to the base, making a triangular step on the ground. He gave the impression of launching into a dance, or going into battle. This was not like the preliminaries to his usual Ataro form. The rest of his body swayed slightly, as if to an unheard melody. A martial melody.

"Master, where are you going?"

Yoda spoke in T'ra Saa's voice. "I don't want to hurt you, Adi. Let me go. I'm warning you." With Adi's _snap-hiss_ of her lightsaber came T'ra's own. T'ra's large Yoda eyes burned into Adi's. "Adi. You're leaving the Order. Don't die for _this."_

_I know what I'm up against. Reinforcements, where are you? _"T'ra, it's not too late. We'll all help you, _Tholme_ will help y-- "

"Not too late? It's already too late. For the Jedi." T'ra swept a fist backwards and the confused tech spun away to the far corner of the hangar as if in a whirlwind. Her fellows gathered her from the ground and skittered out the open door. There were only Jedi inside the hangar now.

Adi registered that footsteps thundered to her unguarded left side, but she never took her eyes off T'ra. T'ra shifted and grew upwards into her familiar shape, a shape that lacked heft and weight, because when T'ra continued moving her feet in her queer triangular steps, her bare toes resembled the thinnest of twigs while her legs in the short Yoda-robes took Adi back to memories of Knight Fee's topiary efforts. Adi stared at the gray hangar walls visible through T'ra's golden-skinned thighs._ She's lost mass. She's stretched to her limit._ The transport rumbled in its lowest warmup level. T'ra glanced at it once in longing.

"Adi! The guardss outsside Dooku's cell ssaid that _Master Yoda_ came for him!" Regork drew his white lightsaber after setting Tholme down carefully.

"_She_ was Master Yoda. _She_ freed Dooku." The four Jedi faced off.

"T'ra." Tholme's voice was still hoarse from one full day without water. "Don't do this. Stay what you have always been, a Jedi. Rejoin your better nature."

"Adi is leaving. She is deserting your precious Order, Tholme."

Adi straightened her spine. Regork thrust out his tongue at T'ra, tasting her resolve. _There iss no give in her. _He went into his usual Form I stance, his basic one since Padawanhood.

Tholme tried again. "She talked with Master Yoda. She talked with me" -- _but did not try to recruit me, why is that? -- _"she thought things through so that she and the rest will be well-supported wherever they settle, so she did things _the right way,_ can't you see that?"

T'ra Saa said the words that would break Tholme's heart. She was thankful that she did not have one. "The old Code is no more. It is a natural event, Tholme, for growth to occur when the roots of a thing are divided and replanted. Far better than _some_ ways I can think of that a discrete body can change, reseeding only when it is burned to the ground. Our way, the Republic lives _and_ the CIS lives. Wouldn't you agree my way is better than burning?"

Tholme's eye with sight looked as baleful as his unsighted one. "You're a traitor. To me. To Master Yoda. To your Order. What _did_ you think Dooku meant to do, T'ra? What did he tempt you with?"

T'ra shifted again under his gaze. This time she appeared as young as when she first turned Romin, a tiny fraction of regained youth from her long lifespan that most would have overlooked. After thirty years with her as her closest companion, Tholme caught the difference. "Don't plead our relationship with _me, _T'ra_."_ His voice was as even as it was during any interrogation. Anyone overhearing this encounter would have said so.

"Let me go. I want to be with Dooku now." _He'll never do it and they'll never do it. It's time to strike, Jedi upon Jedi. I am as ready as I have been for anything in the past century. _T'ra brought up her lightsaber in a Makashi salute, a deliberate insult to Tholme to use Dooku's Form II. She intended it to hurt, which it did. She intended it to unsettle him, which it did not. He had faced Dooku with strength and purpose on Bakura after Geonosis. He had been marked forever by the encounter and accepted that he had done his best. He could do no less with any enemy of the Order. He brought his own blade up in defense.

T''ra turned her triangular shuffle into a deadly dance. Diving for the weakest member of her opponents, she cartwheeled in front of Tholme, who brought his blade down to cut her in two, but she wasn't there. She had turned the cartwheel into a double spinning kick while she rotated on the ground on a hip, knocking out his game leg from under him. He collapsed with a moan, aiming his lightsaber at anywhere on her insubstantial body as he fell to the hard duracrete, but she had already rolled away. Adi and Regork took up the attack after Tholme had crawled to the side, holding his leg and his face grimmer than normal.

Regork's strengths were verbal, but his white lightsaber made an acceptable spear as he threw it at T'ra. She formed a hole in her body to create a passage for the lightsaber, and it only burned the rapidly shredding remnants of Yoda's stolen robes. While Regork called his lightsaber to him from where it had clattered against the wall, T'ra dodged Adi's strike and moved dangerously close to Regork's clawed feet. He kicked at her and his claws caught in her lattice-like body. He shook his foot that was impaling her torso, his large frame off-balance, and she laughed as she ducked under his hands. She cut off his tail a short distance from its root and detached herself from his foot as he screamed. The spurting crimson blood spattered Tholme, who had crawled under the transport to stay out of the way.

Tholme Force-pulled Regork to him. He whipped off his robe, cut away a swathe of material and used it for a bandage on the stump. Blood stickied the lubricant-stained floor with every pump of Regork's stressed heart. Tholme detached his leg brace and used it for a tourniquet twister with more strips of the robe. The stump stopped bleeding and Regork lay in shock against Tholme, his eyelids half-shut, some of his fine newly-grown scales falling from his hide. "Here, over here!" Tholme shouted as six Jedi stormed into the hangar.

"Master Yoda!" Adi called. Adi danced the new dance with T'ra, a gavotte of forward moves, retreats and kicks. Adi didn't know what to make of T'ra's style. The moves and rolls were beyond Adi's experience and she had fallen more than once for T'ra's feints. Her Tholoth headdress and the upper tip of an ear were burned away, but T'ra showed no signs of weakening. Adi's gasps and grunts of effort had no mirror in T'ra, whose breathing analog reflex seemed long-forgotten. Adi had not laid her blade on T'ra yet.

"Kenobi and Skywalker, between Saa and the transport, station yourselves. Escape, she must not. Mundi, see to Regork and Tholme. Tiin -- "

Saesee Tiin saw at once that his bulk would only be in the way. He concentrated on being the physical block to T'ra's departure. He raced to the hangar doors and planted each rock-solid foot in front of them. He called on the Force to shape a net, practiced throwing it to the top of the coaming and saw that it would only stall T'ra's transport. He pulled his comm unit out of his boot. "CorSec. CorSec. Master Tiin comming from the Jedi Temple. Reinforcements needed to block an escaped prisoner from entering orbit from the west hangar, repeat, the _west_ hangar."

"CorSec here. Understood. Help is on the way."

"Make it fast, CorSec. Tiin out." No, he hadn't another idea. Yes, he would trust in the Force to save this situation from being a complete disaster. _Adi, remember the Stark Hyperspace War? You and I handled things well together. We will handle events on Dantooine as leaders, and we will prevail here. Courage. _ He braced himself against the onslaught of distressed thoughts and agonized physical responses from his fellows. His telepathic senses were not always a help in battle situations. From his standpoint twenty meters away, he observed the fracas.

T'ra faced Yoda, Obi-Wan, Anakin and Adi, four tried-and-true Jedi adept at lightsaber battles, and flashed her blade over each of them with knee strikes delivered from her own knees against Yoda, handsprings and overhead chops at which Anakin battered ineffectually, and thorny elbow strikes against Obi-Wan that were delivered so close in that he did not dare to use his lightsaber for fear of severing his own or others' arms. For five heartstopping minutes, Adi thought that T'ra would defeat them all, especially after T'ra's headbutt against her throbbing head made her see stars. As if choreographed by a Sith, T'ra dropped and sprang up, cartwheeled and dipped her blade in and out of their attacks. Once she tripped Adi and Adi thought she was headed for the Force, but Anakin stepped in with a well-placed boot to crush T'ra's sword arm against the floor. T'ra made a strained face and popped her arm into its proper shape again. She stabbed at Anakin's knee, but he whipped it back just as Obi-Wan joined him on the attack. Adi, Obi-Wan and Anakin fought her as one as she snapped herself to her feet again and then Yoda, who had retreated to spy what his smaller form could do, pulled the spinning double kick on T'ra that she had used on Tholme. T'ra dropped and Anakin, Obi-Wan and Adi took arms and legs and torso to immobilize T'ra as she had Tholme for so many hours. T'ra froze in place. Her aura grayed out and they all Sensed her exhaustion.

Saesee came running up. "Master Yoda, CorSec is here."

"Need them, we do not. Send them away." _Another of our own, turned against us. Gone wrong, so much has. _Yoda plucked T'ra's lightsaber from her crushed hand. "Master T'ra Saa, I hereby suspend you from the Jedi Order. A shame to it, you have been."

Defiance made all of T'ra's body rigid, then realization of her defeat scoured the strength from her. She collapsed in on herself, and Anakin and Obi-Wan and Adi tumbled towards each other awkwardly on top of the nearly flat Neti. T'ra wasn't laughing as she had when mutilating Regork. From the corner of her eye, she saw the Glarsaur aided onto an anti-grav by Tholme and a few CorSec officers. Tholme caught her eye and hobbled over to her with Ki-Adi-Mundi's help. T'ra closed her eyes and seemed to shrink even further.

Never had Tholme wanted to weep so much as at the sight of T'ra brought down so low. Never before had he wanted to shout and rant at her. But his mouth was dry. "T'ra, you'll be punished. And you know how." For a Neti, there was only one sure imprisonment. In the dark, in the cold, where lack of sunlight for photosynthesis would leach all of her cells of energy. A Neti could hibernate a thousand years in that state, maybe more if she didn't starve first. Tholme had always known that he would pass into the Force before his longtime friend. To think of it as inevitable blackened his soul. It had been far better when he and she had battled the Separatists or any number of pre-war threats in their long careers. At least then he had not known absolutely that she would outlast him. In a small corner of his thoughts, that had comforted him even as it had embarrassed him at his lack of equanimity with her. _I am __**not**__ attached._

_Maybe I can still use him. "Tholme!_" Her colleagues watching her in sadness, her companion severing all ties to her and her plans for helping Dooku -- _but not that metal monster Grievous -- _come to naught, T'ra played her last sabacc hand. "Tholme, I know how Dooku and the Separatists were getting information, harming the Jedi and the Republic, don't put me into the dark and I'll tell you -- "

"I won't interrogate her, Master Yoda, not even for you or the Order." Yoda said nothing. Tholme leaned against Ki-Adi-Mundi as he looked down at the shriveled Master. "T'ra, we already know about the lamp. You had to change diodes frequently, didn't you? Our Light side power fried your technology." There was a commotion as a Whiphid Knight hurried up to the group.

Adi shrugged off the Knight's concerned frown about her ear. "Report."

"As ordered, Master."

"Good work, Knight. Master Yoda, I need to confer -- "

"Later, Master Gallia. Weary, I am, and rest we all need." Obi-Wan couldn't think of when Yoda had appeared this tired. "Knight, to the Archive's storeroom you will go, and quickly. Fetch the sealed container called Artifact Number 2416. Linger with the talkative clerk, you will _not. _Hurry!" T'ra no longer spoke. Her black foliage shrouded her new face, a cluster of gnarled roots that resembled _naynabo_ clumps. Where she had retreated, no one could say, and the Force was silent. Obi-Wan walked to where Anakin waited beneath the transport's control surface. The young Knight ran a thoughtful hand over its gray metal as he waited for the strained conclusion to this episode.

"She's to be put into storage. She'll be lucky not to starve." Obi-Wan could not read his friend's mood.

"Obi-Wan, you know that I don't need a nav computer to calculate hyperspace jumps. Master Tiin and I have that in common."

_He's on the track of some plan. _"It's a gift that I wish I had."

"I'm the logical one to go after Dooku."

"We can propose to go on this mission to Master Yoda, _after_ we're properly rested." _I don't like the sound of this. _Adi stayed guard over T'ra's unresponsive form, lightsaber at the ready, Obi-Wan saw. He pulled his attention back to Anakin.

_I'm a Knight, I'm going to be a parent, I'm the Chosen One if that still means anything anymore. I've got to go after Dooku on my own. _"We're stretched thin." The responsibility of full Knighthood hit Anakin like a neutronium weight. He looked to Obi-Wan for support but Obi-Wan was looking at Ki-Adi-Mundi's slow retreat from the hangar bracing a proudly-upright Tholme and missed the appeal. This will mean Mastery for me if I succeed, Anakin thought, and then I'll be on an equal footing with you, regarding rank anyway. "I'll go after Dooku," he repeated. "I do not know the way now, but I'll find it. And I'll need your help here, with all the Temple's resources." He rubbed at the spot where his Padawan braid used to be and pulled out the binding on his Knight's tail. The hair reached the bottom of his ears.

Obi-Wan thought of the braid resting in his cloak back at the Council chambers. _This is how to love him now. Don't hug him, don't touch him. Listen to him. _"I shall do my best."

_Meanwhile, at the Vice-Chancellor of the Republic's office ..._

"Cousin Enri, thanks for giving the children at the Museum rides in the Torpedo. Some of them are underpriviliged."

"My pleasure, Cousin." _Cousin Padme's neck is like durasteel. I'm going swimming with her and loosen her up._

_Those hands, oh ... _"Nggh, eh, that's enough. Much better."

"Beat you to the spa."

"I've got too much work, but thanks for the thought." Padme rustled flimsies. "And Organa is gone today. Breha time, you know."

_I can't picture making love on a timetable. It ought to be natural, spontaneous and above all, __**not**__ work. _"Our Supreme Chancellor _is_ supreme."

"He juggles many balls, true." _Alderaan, now there's a place to raise children. Not here in Coruscant, unless it's a home like the Jedi Temple._

"Are you certain that I can't tempt you? A nice synchronized swim? I _am_ better at it. You're an amazing teacher for a hick like me."

"Never. You're never a hick, or a burden. Why someone hasn't gobbled you up into the dating game, I don't know. _I _would, if we weren't, um ... " _Stop._

_Go ahead, Enri._ Enri loomed over her, hands back on her neck. He fit each palm around half of the slender white column and felt the life pulsing there, the need, the dedication to the Republic. Her need today was for his friendship. "I'm a virgin, Cousin," he said. "I think they figure it out here after a while." _Don't laugh._

_What? _Padme stared straight ahead. After a whole minute had passed, she spoke. "I'm flattered that you confided that to me. It's rare."

Enri rubbed the soft skin of her neck and moved down to her shoulders. "You're _family,_ Cousin," he chuckled. "Varykino Parish has some nice ladies, attractive ladies, but not the right one, I suppose. I've liked datapads better than women for companions lately. I'm in no rush to attach myself. I'm only twenty-nine." _Take it easy. Everything has a season. Mine hasn't come yet._

_Ninth cousin, two times removed. Ninth cousin, two times removed. Ninth -- "_There's a private spa in this building. I have the key," someone with Padme's voice said. "Maybe I _could_ use some relaxation for an hour." _With no expectations._

_No expectations. _"That sounds pleasant. Will you need your aide for your disrobing? That is an expensive bit of costume."

_"_It's summer, Cousin, and this is a duracotton sheath. Easy on, easy off. I don't need to impress _every_ day." _And I have no more handmaidens. There is a war on and we economize where we can._

"You see? I _am_ a hick." _She's smiling._

"Oh, you fooler, you. Come on."

TBC


	43. Chapter 43

"There's another reason that I want to leave, Obi-Wan. I want to explore new territories, too. Not just drinking, but in myself."

"I do understand." _I was young once._

"I need to grow." _He's never had this happen to him. I'm his_ _first Padawan._ Anakin patted his Delta-7 as if it were a snorting, prancing, eager-to-race steed. "And I'll be helping the Order, the Republic."

"Anakin."

"What?"

"Go."

Anakin nodded. _The timing of this, the kriffing Dark Side timing._ "Now? I know I said that I wanted to go alone, but -- "

"You no longer need my permission, Anakin." _Master Yoda and the Council agreed on this. You and I talked about it last night until I hit you with a sleep compulsion._

_There is a thing to dislike about ceremonies. You are supposed to feel far different inside afterwards._ And instead, he was looking to his former Master for direction. Well, all right then. He placed his duffel with its spare clothing and fifteen bags of almond-kwevvu crisp munchies on the duracrete launchpad and faced Obi-Wan squarely. "Obi-Wan, if at any time something goes wrong about the twins, comm me."

_Not even for them will I endanger you._ "Nothing will go wrong. We'll talk each Standard night here, same Coruscant time, same Temple frequency. Scrambled, of course, and if you need me at any other point in the mission, it goes without saying that you'll comm me. I am your dedicated liaison."

_Get it off your chest, Skywalker. _"If things were like they were one year ago -- "

"There are some things a Jedi just can't fly around." _There are younglings swimming inside me now. I can't endanger them. _"You have to go without me, Anakin. It wouldn't be right for me to ask to leave with you. You'll be fine." He smiled, not fooling Anakin at all. "By the time you're a Master, you'll have had enough experiences for ten Trials. "

Anakin grimaced. "So you think I might make Master right away, skipping years of Knighthood?" This wasn't like their face-off on Olanet, but came close.

"I can't change that part of the process. I would if I could."

Anakin crossed his arms. "Well, why can't you?" _Not very Knightly, but I don't want to leave you now. Or I don't want you to leave me._ His resolve to take off on his own seemed to have leaked away during the night.

"For kriff's sake, Anakin, I'm not the whole Council! Master Yoda and all of us changed the code, due to you in part, isn't that enough?" _Don't overreact, don't overreact. It's the condition speaking. _How Siri would have loved to have heard this. He could hear her now. "'Oafy-Wan, stomp him. Who's the Master here?'" _But Ferus wasn't your lover, Siri. And even if he were, he wouldn't have thought of asking this._

Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly. "We'll be together more than when you were my Padawan, what with your away scramball tournaments and all." _Except for the physical part_. He pressed a smooth coil into Anakin's hand. "Here is your Padawan braid. I count it among my most precious possessions. Take it with you." _Show it to no one._ "And bring it back to me." _Unharmed._

Anakin nodded again. _If something happens to me, he'll have no part of me left._ He took a deep breath and stepped closer to Obi-Wan until their foreheads touched. They held hands. Their imprinted bond surged in response, a confluence of two rivers, one plunging into a cataract making white plumes of mist, the other wide and deep and steady, a river that could flood other rivers, if it chose, and overwhelm like Gitchy in springtime's full flow. But it did not choose. Like two open-ended circuits of nearly equal power, their Force abilities commingled, their bond flared and then separated into twin streams. They breathed in tandem before coming back to themselves enough to kiss goodbye. Anakin climbed into his Aethersprite and hung the coil of hair on his rearview sensor sprocket.

"May The Force Be With You."

"May The Force Be With You."

Their farewell that morning ran through Anakin's head as he checked his coordinates for the second time. _Scan Serenno first. Dooku'll be wily enough not to return there, but I might gather some clues._ He cracked his knuckles before punching in his next jump. At the dawn briefing this morning, Saesee Tiin had unbent enough to share his experiences using his telepathic navigational senses. Anakin knew this had to do with Anakin's new status as Knight. Saesee's terse recollections were better than nothing. "Knight Skywalker, pick out the brightest star after you come out of your last jump. Fix that star in your mind. Use the Force to shape a map of a sector in your thoughts. Take a moment to Sense the star itself, its beautiful shape in the _Living_ Force" -- and here Saesee had turned quite cosmic; certainly Anakin had never heard him use the word 'beautiful' before -- "and its _Unifying_ Force sense, where it _will_ be in the future, red-shifting or blue-shifting. And then you can plan your return trip as well."

"Adjusting for what time? How will I know how much time has passed when I am out of the flow of time, so to speak, in hyperspace?" _I know you designed my fighter's internal hyperdrive and the meditation seat that will allow me to rest during long hyperspace jumps. I know I shouldn't, but I want more, more of any support you can give me. _

The Iktotchi came close to smiling. "Trust in the Unifying Force, Anakin. It has led you this far. You don't need to know any more than what it will reveal to you in its own good time."_ You still have much to learn. But you're getting there._ He thrust his broken horn in Anakin's direction. "I didn't listen to the Unifying Force and had to eject sooner than planned, and it got me _this." _Anakin supposed that this was the closest that Master Tiin -- _no, it's 'Saesee' now --_ ever got to humor. Then a carrier craft rose from the umbra of Serenno and Anakin could concentrate only on the present. The flyers detaching from the craft's slots commenced firing at once. He wondered if Obi-Wan would have evaded their fire without returning it, all the while trying to negotiate some mutual peaceful understanding. He fired back anyway._ A simple scan triggered __**this?**_

Serenno's flyers were as elegant as most of the world itself. They looked made of Alderaani porcelain, thought Anakin as he blasted one to bits. Their white bisque surfaces were not aerodynamic at all, but then they didn't need to be as wave after wave spun away from their square carrier. He juked one way and jinked another; his opponents' attack strategy was minimal. Straight trajectories, fire continuously, it looked to Anakin less subtle than a carnival mountebank's routine using spinning plates. _Their flyers are attractive, but not practical. What is their defense?_ The flyers fired, then spun away after firing, that is if they weren't blasted by him. They looked like shell-backed borcatu presenting their resistant backs to his followup fire. _This is too easy. _Something changed in their battle stategy after the last flyer departed its mothership. From straight-on firing, the fleet of thirty remaining flyers now maneuvered in a set pattern: fire, turn away, next one fire, turn away. _They are still as predictable as those skinny battle droids from the Naboo Invasion, the kind that the Separatists rarely use anymore. Time for aggression. _ He upped his speed of return fire, spinning, diving, unwilling to waste any more time on them. When their pattern remained unchanging as if his actions weren't even being monitored, suspicion set in. _Like the skinny droids, they must be preprorammed. _After he had whittled down their number to twenty-six, he loosened his concentration on his attack to throw out a tendril of the Force in their direction. _Droid pilots. Typical. _ So what was different? Fire, turn away, spin. Fire, turn away, spin. It was as if they were knitting a garment. Too late, Anakin Felt the touch of the Dark Side in their regimented movements. The Delta-7 was surrounded by a cloud of ceramic fragments in a disturbing pattern that commenced to whirl, against all the laws of physics in space. The effect was that of a localized tornado, with the Delta-7 as its eye. _Ceramic. Superconductor of electricity. Could these ceramic bits conduct the Dark Side's power and could -- _

"Ahhhh!" _No resistance to the conduction of electrons, ceramics also reject magnetic flux lines, I'm being __**taken**__ somewhere!_ Anakin nearly panicked as his instruments displayed sheer nonsense. The navcomp, which he needed for his base jumps even though he could navigate from there without its further help, showed values all the way from negative-zero to positive eight billion. Its screen was a sickly orange that flared into streaks of shaky indigo and back again. If he'd had Obi-Wan's hypersensitive stomach, he would have heaved his guts out as the Delta-7 spun, or seemed to. He wasn't in hyperspace, no, but he might as well have been flying blind as the cloud of ceramic particles swirled in sickening Dark Side waves. And then it was over, ten minutes, ten hours, he wasn't sure which. He found himself in orbit around a greenish blue planet orbiting a binary star, the planet's two moons visible on either side of his fighter. _It's like Tatooine's system and the moons are like lintels to step through to go planetside. I must be cautious. _His instruments he thought were fried, except for the short-range communications array. All the constellations looked unfamiliar. _I'm lost. Kriffing ceramics with their kriffing ionic interatomic bonds. I hate them all. Even the ones with covalent bonds. I'm lost. _"Kriff!" He undid his harness and yanked off his headset, unwilling to have anything else restrain him._ Well, Chosen One, is this territory new enough for you, huh?_ Anakin opened a packet of almond-kwevvu crisp munchies and settled in to think his next step.

" --lling unknown Jedi. Come in, unknown Jedi." His comm board crackled, making Anakin jump and knock his head against the hatch cover. He cursed again as he fumbled for the switch to activate his caller's unscrambled, basic frequency. Whoever this was had to be completely unafraid of the Separatists, or could they be so far off the Galaxy's HoloNet web that they had no knowledge of the war? At least they knew his ship was of Jedi origin.

"Knight Skywalker here. Who is this?"

"At last, at last! Are you here to rescue us?"

_Meanwhile, back at the Temple ..._

Stass Allie and Adi Gallia had been strolling together outside the infirmary as Obi-Wan entered for his followup appointment with Luminara before she returned to New Holstice and her regular duties. Their dark heads together, their arms inside their sleeves, the cousins' stances reminded Obi-Wan of initiates in the Hall who were sharing secrets, particularly when Stass congratulated him on his part in subduing T'ra Saa, as if she were surprised he'd had the capability to be active at all. He pushed aside the impression for the time being and closed the infirmary door securely behind him.

"Obi-Wan! How are you feeling?" Luminara asked.

"Fine. Nothing strange to report."

Luminara pulled a scanner from her travel bag and Obi-Wan saw that she was packing her personal instruments before leaving this afternoon. He released his unease about her departure into the Force. She poked the scanner in his direction, hmmed once and then said, "Yes, you _are_ fine. You are healthy, just like I said, Obs." _Now for the unsettling news. _"I've called in Stass to consult and we've discovered something since your last visit. All the signs point to your parturition date being normal, _completely normal, _at eight Standard months, thirty-six weeks instead of the single birth forty. You have a month off, haha!" _Need to work on that jollity, Luminara._

_Good. The sooner this is over, the better. As long as everyone remains healthy, of course._ He looked sideways at her."I'm suspicious of you, Lu. Why don't you drop the other boot?" _That is not her normal laugh._

"You're going to experience placental abruption, Obs. I'm sorry." Luminara steadied her voice with some difficulty. More bad news, or unwelcome news, just plain weird news to her patient. _He's going to need a completely new file addition to his casefolder. Perhaps an entire abstract, treat his file like an article in Internal Journal. "During a burst of midichlorian strength due to auroral radiation causing somatic hypermutation and upon additional Spaarti cloning cylinder radiation exposure, one male human Jedi, aged thirty-eight, experienced morphogenetic changes to his genome and developed female internal genitalia; upon congress with his partner, male human Jedi, aged twenty-two, conception occurred. Results included fully viable twin younglings, herein documented from near point of conception to live birth. This article will explain the rationale of the boosted midichlorian count, implantation of the younglings in the functioning uterus, subsequent growth and successful birthing. It will look finally at the odds of a recurrence of this happenstance."_ Luminara gave a delicate huff. _**Not bloody likely.**_ She waited as she always did for startling news to permeate a being's consciousness and the processing necessary to sanity to begin. It seemed she had to do that a lot for one Kenobi, Obi-Wan, Rank: Master.

"That sounds unpleasant." _What next? Live feed of the birth on the HoloNews?_

"An abruption means that the placenta pulls away from the uterine lining prior to its natural occurrence postpartum. It's a serious complication in your species' normal female pregnancy. It's ... painful. Your special case requires it as a sort of analog to vaginal birth. When the placentas pull away, the babies are ready to start breathing and be removed from your uterus, along with the placentas, of course. At the same time that I open you up, I'll remove the uterus and ovaries and seal the interface, all in one go, so you don't need to come back to me for any other procedure. You might need to be put out for that part." She forced a bright smile. "I'll monitor you for a day, and then you can go home. Anakin may take the babies, or they may stay with you. You won't be nursing them, so we really don't have to keep them in the infirmary if they are health-- "

"_Nursing _them?Is that even a possibility?" _I can't handle any more changes, I really, really cannot._

"No, no! Stass and I didn't ever consider that as happening! The research indicates it won't be possible, don't you worry. You might have tender nipples from the ovarian hormones of childbirth, but not anything more than that. No, I'm trying to make you aware of _everything_ that will oc-- "

"I don't need to know any more details, Lu. You're taking good care of me and of them. This abruption is merely another pile of shit to step over."_ I think the Dark Side is in the details._

"Master Qui-Gon used to say that, didn't he."

"Yes, another in a string of hearty, lusty comments he made at times. Where he got them, I don't know. He made planetfall on many crude planets, interacted with many crass cultures long before I knew him." _You'd be enthralled by this whole process, Master. "The Sanctity Of Life, The Wonders Of The Force," I can hear you now._

_It's getting to him._ "Obi-Wan, I can put you out for the entire process once it begins. You won't feel a thing."

"Won't that affect the younglings?"

"It's a delicate process, but no, I don't think so." _I'd need someone on the anesthetic exclusively, could it be Bant, if she's up to it ... maybe ... Stass, no, she will be handling two younglings later on ..._

_The twins deserve all I can give them. They'll likely be one Standard month early anyhow and it won't be worth the risk. _"I am a Jedi Master. I can deal with it."

"You can always change your mind, once things start happening. It's no disgr-- "

"Noted." Obi-Wan plastered an almost-convincing smile on his face. _The things I do for you, younglings._

TBC


	44. Chapter 44

The sonic attack that Republic forces had used against the crystal army in Alliga's noxious swamps one fortnight ago had literally shaken Dooku. The Republic's attack had failed because Grievous' mechanical competence -- Dooku refused to think 'genius' -- had foreseen a sonic attack upon his crystal constructs and had formed his MagnaGuards into a walking, clanking mobile unit of counterinsurgency. Grievous molded his MagnaGuards into walking weapons, tremendous firepower as well as the new counter-sonics weapon that had effected humiliation on some of the clone troops. A resonance engine that the MagnaGuards activated flooded the human body with electrical currents and strong vibrations, which in a relaxed setting might have been therapeutical, but with battlefield nerves promoted an accelerated rate of peristaltic action. The clone troops had scrambled for control. Even the Jedi Generals and Commanders found themselves humiliated. As a user of the Dark Side, Dooku controlled his own autonomic reflexes well, yet the effort to avoid embarrassment diverted his attention from the battle itself and the Separatists had lost a valuable staging area for their materiel. The cyborg was able to flick an internal switch and was unaffected.

Today on the more clement Rutan in the Outer Rim, Dooku's lambasting Grievous over the ambidirectional nature of the weapon emanating from the impervious MagnaGuards and the ensuing modding of the weapon ran through Dooku's head. Grievous tipped their skimmer closer to the mauve cliff wall than Dooku would have liked. The Count of Serenno said nothing, giving no hint of discomfort at the Kaleesh's daring. _Is he showing off to me again? He had never spent much time with Milord Sidious and now he is living with a Sith Lord. If he is toadying, it is tedious and not useful. I need him plotting battles. _Dooku had many years of maturity on Grievous and then again, Dooku was of noble heritage, which to him meant devotion to duty, the Separatist cause, the Dark Side and proper order. He found himself growing more attached to order as he aged, perhaps in response to Grievous' occasional recklessness. The living together part he despised, sporadic as it was after his escape from shoddy Jedi custody. Grievous' needs ran to lubricants and holoemitters programmed for battle planning; nowhere in his character were aesthetic considerations. There had been no time in the two months before this battle to craft a separate life.

If Dooku had deigned to thank Grievous for Dooku's rapid retrieval from the fuel-depleted Jedi transport, Grievous might have procured a more dignified craft for their campaign inspection tour. As it was, Grievous' feet clamped to the heaving deck as their craft bucked a rising wind while Dooku used the Force to secure his venerable frame to the co-pilot seat. This forced Dooku to concentrate fiercely, arms crossed, sneer in place. Grievous thought the Count missed his _JediNow!_ auctions and his elegant home on Serenno. _Wait until he sees my crystal army to better advantage. Now that the flaws have been engineered away, he'll see that any metal droids are a thing of the past, just like the B-1 droids. Roger this, heir to Sidious. _"Milord Dooku, meteorology reports claim -- "

"Are you going to tell me that it is going to rain?" _Perhaps he fears rust._

_Don't make me change my mind back to my former opinion of you. You escaped the Jedi. Where is that brilliance now? _"I would be doing Milord a disservice if I did not inform him of every possible permutation of our odds for victory."

"'Odds'? Isn't victory a sure thing?_"_

_Where is your vision of the future? _"Perhaps Milord could use the Force to see -- "

"You wheedled me into authorizing these crystal droids. With your _infernal_ upgrading and tinkering, this battle ought to -- "_ Land this thing at once._

_"Behold."_ Grievous placed their craft expertly, smoothly behind a thicket of conifers. Even the trees were one third larger than Galactic norm. The MagnaGuards in the rear seats formed a ring around the thicket. They did not get too close to Dooku after he had informed Grievous testily that he did not appreciate any more mechanicals near him than he must. The irony that Qymaen jai Sheelal appreciated in his past life sailed over General Grievous' cyborg head. "It's beyond this ridge." _You wanted __**this**__ planet taken because of Rutan's kudana furs. Why a Sith Lord would need furs when he could use the Force to commandeer heating units, I don't know. _

_This is as good a planet as any to persuade to our just cause and now I will have many of the rarest furs in the galaxy to rebuild my treasures. I deserve them. _"It's raining."

"To our advantage. You shall see, Milord."

On this planet of wild mountains and broad plains with a fishing and hunting economy, Rutan's population of dark-skinned near-humans towered a full meter and a half over Dooku's powerful frame. Dooku supposed that another, lesser being would appreciate Grievous' new protective attitude and sheer mechanical strength. _I am my own source of strength. I am alone since Qui-Gon joined the Force. I need give affection to no one._ He pulled his hood down further over his eyes, forming a roof over the macrobinoculars as he observed at a great remove his forces' attack upon the Republic's. Down on Rutan's plains, the valuable beasts in question thundered in great herds as the battle cacophony began. Though they matched Rutan's general outsized ecology and stood nearly two full meters at the withers, from the Separatists' vantage point beneath dripping boughsthe kudanas seemed one dark undifferentiated mass. No, now it was two masses, as the panicked herd split, dashing this way and that, trampling the mix of metal and crystal droids along with some clone troopers. The crystal droids reformed. The metal and clone troops did not. Dooku approved.

Through the wind and brief rain, Dooku stood, watching the give and take of the battle. Here a sortie by crystal and metal droids succeeded, there one failed. Here a clone trooper survived his squad's massacre, there an entire company of identical humans was wiped out. When the battle's tipping point was reached, Republic gunships and their missiles seemed to have the field well in hand. When the gunships appeared in support, the clone troops broke out weapons that they must have thought would overwhelm the opposition: thermal detonators. Though the Separatists' artillery took out the gunships, Dooku held his breath and Grievous fingered his lightsabers beneath his cloak as the first detonator was launched by a clone captain. Then Dooku and Grievous relaxed. All was going according to plan.

After two hours of battle, the Rutanian system's sun pierced the drained, scudding clouds. In the mud and blood of the plains, over the corpses of humans and shreds of metal droids, the sun bathed all Dooku's view in brightness. And then the sparkling began, rainbow scintillations from the reflections of the sun on crystal blurred Dooku's macrobinocular vision. Or it could have been emotional tears, because the effect of light was beautiful, a work of mosaic that he had never attempted in art classes at the Temple, or on his own as a traveling Knight, or in teaching his Padawans their lessons. This was glorious, this was the part of battle that he appreciated the most, not Grievous' maneuvering of tanks and battalions, but carnage overcome by aesthetics. The crystals moved, they seemed a rippling river of gems through which victory for the Separatists forged like a fine sailing ship. The clones' helmets took split-seconds to recalibrate their outside visual feeds, yet those split-seconds cost the lives of many armored warriors. Dooku sensed Grievous turning towards him for a look of camaraderie. The Dark Lord flung out his senses to the Jedi Knight entrapped on a small hillock below instead.

The Knight was no one Dooku had ever met, had not one bit of familiarity to his Force signature, but Dooku felt more in tune with this unknown Jedi than he did with Grievous. Their shared Temple background, their ideologies matching up until a certain point in Dooku's life, these things made Dooku curious about the Jedi's last moments. Something in the swing of the weary sword arm, the downcast mood, a sharp stab of grief over a close friend's passing into the Force alerted Dooku to the notion that this Knight had been a Master to a Padawan who had died. Yes, there, the Knight stood over a form motionless in the mud, a smaller form with outstretched arms and unnatural pose. The young one had passed and her Master guarded her until his last breath. Hope for his own life lasted until a surge of crystal overcame his resistance and flooded the scene with brilliance. Dooku peered through the macrobinoculars, tears from the lights' glare slipping down his cheeks. The crystal droids flowed over the hapless Knight, who still clung to life. His energy fading, he looked through the clear rain-washed skies towards Dooku as if knowing that greater enemies than the mindless droids observed his passing. Long blond hair blackened by the droid's trampling analogs for feet, his torso bedecked by detached crystals from the shining droids that he had dispatched, the Knight's right hand had lost its grip on his lightsaber. One minute before he heeded the call of the Force, he extended the middle finger, broken as it was. Dooku saw and approved. _Beautiful._

_Meanwhile, at Dex's Diner ... _

"I think we're better off apart, that's all." Padme tried not to fidget. She'd rehearsed this for some time in front of the 'fresher mirror, and fidgeting gave off an "I'm not quite mature" vibe that, at twenty-eight, she knew was far in her past. She knew also that her single bodyguard was somewhere in the summer-steamy diner, but tried to forget it as she waited for Yoda's response.

"Not a surprise, this is, Padme. Distant lately, have you been."_ Heavy, my heart is, yet adults we both are. Survive, the first rule of Jedi combat is. And a form of combat unknown to me, this was. _

Dex's Diner was quiet this time of day, right before the lunch rush. Good place for a breakup, Padme thought wryly. "Yoda, you'll always be special to me, you know that. I -- I'm ... " _If I knew the Force, now would be the time to call on it._

"Padme." Why didn't this hurt more? "In different places now, our interests lie."_ Failed, we have, with our plan to end the war. Concentrate, I must, to aid the Chosen One's talent for wringing victory out of defeat._

Padme chewed her snickerdoodle thoughtfully, waving away WA-7 with her eternal "Warm up on that, hon?" This was going as smoothly as all such things went._ He's despondent. He can't look beyond his, well, our, plan's failure._

"Ready to move on, myself, I am," Yoda prompted. Until he released his emotions to the Force, it bothered Yoda greatly that he was changing his relationship with Padme. How he would miss most things about her: her willingness to try new things, her sense of fun, her ringlets that covered half his body if he wanted. But more than that, he had appreciated her lack of gravitas. With her delegated powers, she could have had lackeys for her everyday needs, as had some Jedi in his experience who prodded their Padawans into too many chores.

Padme dropped some sweetener into her caf and stirred more viciously than she wanted to. "Well, I thought you'd at least ask us to seek counseling." She had wanted to do this in a kind way, and she had. Why did this hurt more than it should? She and Jobal had had a long -- a very, very, long -- discussion about this yesterday, not nearly as calm. Her mother had wanted her to give up serial relationships, had hinted around about it for a year and a half, and now she was even more adamant. Padme had come to realize that she wanted not someone to complement her, but to match her. Ommane had matched her in gender and Anakin in species, but Yoda had been a challenge, a match in neither. And Padme was ready for a match. _I'm through with this kind of challenge. Real life is challenge enough for me._

Yoda studied a stain on the checked tablecloth. "Help, it would not. Miss you, I shall. Meant much to me, our partnership did."_ If next time there is, breaking up in a public place is best._

"Wait, wait. Our partnership? I only meant _us_. You mean, we're not working together at the Children's Museum anymore? Or on a new plan to bring peace?"

Yoda's ears with their delightfully rasping hair drooped. "Standing on its own, the Museum is. Talked about working undercover together on Nar Shaddaa, Master Secura and I have. A new approach to defeating Dooku, I need. Years it has been since intel I have done."

"Undercover? With your reputation? Your face is famous galaxy-wide, Yoda. Now _Yaddle_ might get away with it -- "

"Impertinent, you are. Time we parted, it is." Yoda touched Padme's arm as he had nearly one year ago in this very diner, and there was no spreading tingle._ Blending of the Force and state, viable it is not._ "Friends?"

Padme would miss Yoda's hemipenes -- _oh, what he could do with the two of them at once! -- _and his cloaca's responsiveness, but being honest with herself, she would not miss the debates about the Force. They left her drained and not at all sure of herself, which bothered her most of the time. It was a stretch from perceiving that politics _worked,_ slowly and finely, but politics _worked_ as a process, to flogging her brain with the idea that the Force simply existed and if you had the right words or attitude, not to mention the training, the Force worked for _you_. It was too much trouble, too many years since her educational years had passed for Padme to submit herself to training. She realized this might be a weakness, but there it was: she was occasionally weak. It was easier to admit this than ever before, easier since Enri Etolini had come into her life. With his steady implantation into her days, she did not have to be unremittingly strong. That felt good, in a way she had not felt with Teragram or Anakin or Ommane. Or even with Yoda, or maybe especially with Yoda. He was a powerhouse of strength and she had matched him for nigh onto one full year. _Time to leave._

"Friends." They bowed in place to each other and even smiled, a mere lifting of the corners of the mouth, but a smile, nonetheless.

TBC


	45. Chapter 45

"We've had the whiskerino contest. We've had the how-many-food-pellets-are-there-in-this-jar contest. What's next, Anakin?" Along with her fellow Corellian Legislative Youth Program teammates, Rall Omski had cabin fever from being cooped up all day in the protecting Ishkik caverns on Cularin. Anakin couldn't blame her for letting her spirits fly in the free nighttime air. He felt the same way. It was his ill luck that today contained so many exasperations. It was four months after the ceramic storm had whirled him into the Voidfire Nebula whose flares hid the planet Cularin, a planet as strong in the Force as any he had ever Felt. He had hunkered down to wait until the flares' predictable interference would allow both his and the Legislative Youth Program's jury-rigged spacecraft to depart this beautiful world, blighted only by the Separatist invasion. It had taken all his patience and then some to patch up their transport as well as his own fighter. If it had been four months for him, it had been ten months of waiting for them, fifteen teen Corellians in survival mode.

Anakin had had to take charge.

Anakin recalibrated his hydrospanner and scratched his tawny beard. "Don't know what's next, Rall," he muttered, hoping that she would get the hint and stop pestering him. He had appointed her in their first week together to be the Morale Officer of the group, but over a half-year of enforced intimacy among the stranded cadre of census-takers had already worn the group's camaraderie down to a nubbin. Cliques had formed, always a bad sign. The data gatherers had looked askance at the communications officers and the two groups ganged up on the maintenance crew. Things were getting ugly. Their snap-up survival tents huddled in three groups inside the lip of the caverns' opening and to keep the peace Anakin spread his downtime among the groups equally. He had never appreciated being a Jedi more than he had in these past four months.

They had told him, shivering as they did so, of the whole kilassin disaster three days before Anakin's arrival. Life on this southern continent of Cularin with its mountainous rainforests was difficult enough without the attacks of those sneaky reptilians. The beasts' ripping claws resulted in the deaths of five of their number, including the remaining adult team member. Morale dipped with that incident and only rose when Anakin arrived with his ability to Sense that the creatures had migrated with the autumnal equinox to the innermost reaches of the system of tunnels. Still, Rall persevered in her appointed task as she had every day. "Anakin, can I help you do something?" she asked, taking a different tack to gain his attention. She leaned provocatively against the makeshift trestle supporting the detached comm board.

"Now what could _you_ do?" sneered Lanzo, his voice cracking on the pronoun. The other interns handed him the scattered tools and he replaced the hydrospanners into their slots, their size designations aligned precisely, the hexagonal points all in a row. Obi-Wan would have been nodding in approval, Anakin thought.

"She can do a lot, Lanzo Mulduun. She tries hard." Oops, wrong thing to say. _Will I ever understand teen girls?_ He'd better learn how before Sabra aged into that category, or his own daughter. _Or my daughters. _ His mind gibbered. "Please, Rall, no more whiskerino contests, all right?" Anakin had won hands down, his golden brown scruff turning respectably full after one month as per the rules. Of course, he was one of only three males in the lost group. This had been their first assignment and all of them were frustrated at their perceived failure. Anakin had given up trying to persuade them that it was not their fault at being hijacked by the Separatists.

Rall's pout turned into a sweet smile. "No, the competition wasn't much, _was_ it."

"Not fair!" Lanzo slammed the toolbox closed with a bang. "I'm only fifteen!" He glared at Rall, who glared back.

"Came in third, after someone who is bald, Lanzo. Says a lot right there."

"_That's_ not where you grow whiskers, stupid!"

"I'm not stupid, _you're_ the one who's forgotten the time! I'll bet Anakin and Obi-Wan and Saesee give you what-for!" Rall flourished her wrist chrono ostentatiously. It was nearly time for Saesee's weekly comm. Her wrist was thinner than last week, Anakin noticed. His own presence had added to their hardship, though he tried to control his eating to save their resources. The almond-kwevvu crisp munchies had lasted him one full week. He hadn't thought of himself as needing to lose weight in a long time now. His musings about it on Gelgelar seemed years ago.

To stop the sniping, Anakin fought for the right words, wishing that he had Tru's loquacity. "Rall and Lanzo, do me a favor, please, and pair these relays. Today could be the day we leave beautiful Cularin for even more beautiful Coruscant." _Not looking forward to returning home with my tail between my legs. And Obi-Wan is keeping something from me. _ "Skywalker here," he said before the comlink could chime. The Force made its presence known under the cloudy nebula painting the black sky with white milk and he needed to use the Force, needed to remind himself that he was sensitive to it and in a moment he could commune with his fellow Jedi. He closed his eyes, reveling in the intensity.

"Anakin. Fribulate the jamming frequencies with the sporkulator and tell me what happens." Saesee kept formalities to a minimum, given that the power on Anakin's end could go at any moment. The stress made everyone use holographic sentences.

"Got it." Anakin tuned his sporkulator and got busy. "The lines are parallel."

"Not good. Up the frequency." Anakin's arm interface tingled when he cranked the dial to the right. _My arm needs a tuneup_. "They're at a diagonal."

"Up from the bottom left to the top right corner?"

"Yes." From the comm board came a grunt like a snorting reek. Anakin had learned that this was Saesee's sign of satisfaction.

"Excellent. Keep it up day by day. By next week, the frequencies should be such that you and the younglings can escape." There was a crackle and a hum, notice that their connection was fading. Static grew and clung to their words like the gripvine in the Shrine of Kooroo.

"Fine by me. Eluding the Seppers hasn't been easy." _And trying to stay safe with this crew of idealists has been an eyeopener. _In a flash of self-knowledge, Anakin knew that he would fight for these young ones, die for them, and worse, kill for them. It was most sobering. _I suppose that these will be my feelings when I see my own younglings at last. Will the twins be this simplistic? _He snorted. _Not with Obi-Wan's genetic input, they won't._

"Continue what you're doing. Things will work out, Anakin."

"Thanks, Saesee." A clonk and more hissing. Heavy Iktotchi footsteps retreating into the distance, lighter ones advancing. Then sounded a voice that echoed in his heart.

"Anakin."

"Obi-Wan." The static was less today than last week, an indication of the nebula's cycling down its interference, surely? Anakin turned aside from the Group members clustering around him. Lanzo seemed to know what was going on and put his colleagues to work fixing their meager evening meal over the smokeless cooking unit just outside the caverns' entrance. Rall dallied around Anakin until Lanzo pulled her away.

Upon hearing Anakin's voice, Obi-Wan felt affection bubble up inside him and it needed an outlet; he had faced and conquered such things in the past few months that Anakin would never know in his life. "Darling!"

Anakin curled his hand around his comlink, turning away from Rall and Lanzo's busywork. "Sweetheart," he whispered. "It won't be long now."

"I heard."

Anakin cast about for any enemy presence before he continued. There had been a few fly-overs from STAPs, though not usually at night. "Obi-Wan, I haven't mentioned this to the younglings, but could it be that their ship was merely a test for Dooku's Dark Side Warp weapon? They didn't arrive in orbit as I did. They crash-landed and Alset said that before their pilot died, she mentioned 'crazy tarine teacups.' That is as good a description of the Serenno flyers as any."

"We may never know if Dooku disappears into the galaxy. The intel from Serenno has naturally been filtered by his loyal staff." A test of a powerful Dark Side-powered weapon was as good an explanation as the Analysis Room can come up with. _And the Program ship crashed, while you did not. I'll release my relief over that into the Force later._

"How goes the war?" _That I am not a part of. Stang._

"The crystal droids have taken the place of nearly all deployed metal droids, B-1's, of course, but also the super battle droids. Each encounter with them has been a learning curve. Grievous' MagnaGuards block our sonic weapons with their counter-sonics, the crysties can reform so fast it makes the clones' helmets swim. Some success with the water crushers." _Mud, it holds them in place, but how can we use water crushers on places like Drongar? The kriffing crysties._ Obi-Wan began the litany of events that Anakin had asked for each week after the harrowing first month of noncommunication. That torture for them both had ended only when Anakin cobbled together a working long distance comm board from the Legislative Youth Program's ship's carcass and his own Delta-7's ruptured diodes. Another month passed before the jumbled coordinates that Anakin fed to Obi-Wan and Saesee could be decoded; the planet could have been anywhere. But they knew their location now. They were waiting on the waxing and waning of the Nebula. Navigating out of it would be a complete _vorp_. "No more headaches. Bant helped me with them, she is improved. She says - _ahem_ - that my condition is making her feel better. Plo is flying in the field again, his last engagement was over Drongar. Modded my speeder bike again. Adi is packing. Siri is spending more and more time with the clones. I think that she will be fine with staying with the breakaway group for the first month while they acclimate on Dantooine. Master Porrie passed into the Force right after we talked last week. Saesee says that he will stay in-Temple as long as it takes to get you and the younglings home. Tholme spent one full day in retreat with T'ra's box-cell. Master Yoda is concerned about him. I am working every day in the Analysis Rooms on the crystal sample that Siri recovered." _Two more things_. "There is a new stoplight at the corner of Fifty-sixth and Elm."

"They needed one there, what did I tell you?"

"You did, yes." _One last thing. "_I weigh ninety-nine kilos."

"Never."

"Yes."

"I can't imagine how that must feel. I thought carrying a twenty-two kilo backpack of thermite explosives was heavy on the outside. You're working too hard, Obi-Wan." _I know you. You won't stop until something bad happens._

"I know how to ask for help, Anakin. This issue is too serious for pride to stand in the way."

_Lecture Number Seven Thousand Fourteen in a continuing series, Master._ "Now you listen to _my_ lecture, Obi-Wan. You were right when you said that I needed someone other than you. I need you first, but I also need to see my younglings arrive safely. Can you do that for me?" _Say 'for me,' sound as if I'll simply die if you don't do what I want, how's that for listening to your Diplomatic Pedantry lessons?_

_Brat._ "Lecture heard, noted and branded on my soul. But you spoke of bombs and younglings are comparable, if you consider what they've done to us."

"_Huh? "We'll _ be fine."

"Our partnership - "

"Don't resent them, Obi-Wan. They didn't ask to be born." _What is going on there?_

_Out with it, he has only this window for a little while._ "Anakin - "

A whiz and a thumping sound of feet approaching. "Yes, Saesee, what is it?"

"Give me the comlink! Anakin, forget what I said about fribulating! Get your group together and leave! There's a window through the interference in one hour, _for_ one hour! You're good to go with the repairs you've made so far and you could be here in two days!"

Anakin heard what might have been a jig coming from his comlink. He had to be sure, very sure about this. He wanted to see home again badly, but not at the risk of everyone's lives. _And not at the risk of never meeting my younglings. I could wait another week if necessary._ "Are you certain, Saesee? What's happened?"

"A solar flare. I've been coordinating the Cularin Prime sunspots with the Voidfire Nebula's radiation via your link with us. The Analysis Room has picked up a building solar flare, don't make me waste time explaining it all because it, it - "

"One hour, darling! I'm looking at the data right now! There's going to be a flare in one hour for eleven minutes and it will saturate your instruments! You don't have any more parts to fix them! It will be months before any extraction team can make it to you all!"

_I'm using the crystal from my lightsaber to jury-rig the Corellian transport's ignition. Crystal. Not ion-based. Good difference, it seems, but still -_ "Saturate? That doesn't sound like a good thing, Masters."

"It's a disaster." Saesee's voice returned to its usual bass. "Skywalker, when the transport uses your crystal to ignite the engines, keep on using the crystal to power out of the atmosphere as fast as you can. Then switch the crystal out when you're in orbit into the hyperdrive. If you keep on using the crystal, the ionization in the nebula won't affect your engines and once you get past the Nebula, you can reinsert the crystal in your lightsaber and go back to using the ion engines. It won't matter anymore. Leave your Aethersprite behind and just go."

_My Aethersprite. I've modded it just so. The Seppers will get it, all those personalized circuits and scanners, and and - just everything. Inhale, Anakin. _ "Copy, Masters. The CIS forces haven't found us yet, and the sixteen of us can haul my fighter under the lip of the caverns." Comlink in hand, he Force-leaped into the cockpit one last time and retrieved his Padawan braid. _I'm certain that the enemy will not access this data. They'll be forced to stay here until at least next month. Dooku, you are in for a surprise._ He reached under the cowling and brutally ripped out wires and connections. _I can make this again. I can make a __**better**__ instrument array._ Rall and Aslet and Lanzo and the rest gathered around the Delta-7. Anakin regarded them silently. _I must do this. All of you can't fit into the fighter. _ "It's time to go. Just like in the drill. Everyone into the transport, Rall, you and Lanzo double-check and do the pre-flight." He held up his clenched mechno-fist. "No questions. Trust me." Everyone scrambled for the transport, shrieking, talking excitedly or trottiing in silence as their personalities dictated.

"Anakin, I know this hurts and I'm sorry." Obi-Wan's voice was almost inaudible in the growing static. "Look for the auror_frzzzzzlppp_."

_Two days later ..._

"You're puffing."

"You would be, too. They're squeezing my lungs."

"I guess sparring is out for a while."

"Yes, also lying on my back."

"Spooning was nice and relaxed this morning."

"Give me a hand. The last steps are the worst." Up and up they had gone to visit Master Porrie, the landing in each set of stairs a welcome respite to the climb that tradition said had to be made on foot. Obi-Wan lay a hand on Anakin's shoulder as the two Jedi rounded the final turn to her resting place in the wall of the Tower of Remembrance's stone staircase. Built upon generations of Jedi, each plaque inscribed with names and Knighting dates but no dates to indicate passing into the Force. Obi-Wan pointed out Master Porrie's spot. "She was clear at the last. She exclaimed, 'What a beautiful transom,' and Passed into the Force, Bant said."

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose. "She would have liked to have seen the aurora, then."

"Beautiful, wasn't it. You were in it, like I was on Olanet."

"Explosions of color in the stratosphere, charged particles that would have killed our instruments if we had been using ion drive, oh, it _was_ beautiful, all right."

"And you did the jumps yourself without instruments after getting free of Cularin's gravity well. I'm proud of you."

"Maybe you can, too, Obi-Wan, now that your midichlorians have - "

"I don't think so, Anakin. We're not completely alike. I'm hoping that you shave soon, for instance."

"I like it. It makes me distinguished, older, just like you."

_I'll shave you when you're sleeping_. "As you wish." Obi-Wan leaned against the stones gratefully. "So, you've had fifteen Padawans at once. No other Jedi can say that."

"That's one reason I feel older. The quarrels, the fits, the dirty looks, I tell you, Obi-Wan, it was horrendous."

"They were not Jedi, Anakin."

"True. Makes a difference." Anakin touched Porrie's plaque. "Master Porrie, rest well. With six Padawans under your belt, you deserve it."

After they had clasped hands for a brief meditation and departed, the eternal flame in the wall sconce flickered as if laughing.

TBC


	46. Chapter 46

The morning sits outside afraid

Until my Master draws the shade;

Then it bursts in like a ball,

Splashing sun all up the wall.

And the evening is not night

Until he's tucked me in just right

And kissed me and turned out the light.

Oh, if my Master went away

Who would start the night and day?

* * *

"What have you got there, Obi-Wan?" Anakin brushed his bushy beard against Obi-Wan's neck, bracing one arm on Obi-Wan's shoulder before kneeling behind the sofa. He read the datapad's screen before Obi-Wan could switch it off.

Obi-Wan slid up his shields. It wouldn't do for Anakin to think him soppy. _But this piece was charming. And you __**used**__ to be, or maybe it's the four months we've spent apart and not together in the flesh. _ He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Something you wrote right after you got here."

"Ha, yeah, Master Tobin made us study poetry and write pieces. I worked for a week on that one. Want a bite of this?" Anakin's smacking lips got on Obi-Wan's last nerve. The smell of the ripe blumfruit turned his stomach.

"No, thanks."

"So, how's the list coming?"

"All right. You haven't made any input to it, I see."

_He's anxious about this and something else, too, I Sense. _"Nah. I'll know its name when I see its face."

"_'It'?_"

"Well, together they're about the size of a scramball. Hard to think of them as 'hims' or 'hers.'" Anakin sucked his flesh thumb and first finger. His mechno-hand squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder affectionately, but Obi-Wan drew forward, away from the touch.

"What?"

"If there is a girl, I'm naming her 'Petunia,' like the flower. It's euphonious."

"You can't be serious. 'Petunia Kenobi.' Sounds like 'ptooey, here comes Kenobi,' like some youngling might say to make fun of her in Initiates' Hall." Anakin headed for the 'fresher.

Obi-Wan followed him. "You're poking fun at my choice, but why don't you contribute to the list, then? If you can write sentimental poetry like you did at ten and fall in love at _nine_, you can push yourself to think up an appropriate name or two. I'm doing all the work here, taking all the responsibility, like I don't have enough already." It came out whinier than Anakin had ever been. Obi-Wan heard himself and winced.

Anakin rinsed his fingers and didn't say anything. He went back into the common room and sat in the recliner, pointedly not looking at Obi-Wan. _I've only been home two days._ "That _wasn't_ sentimental."

"Yes, it was. As if the sun on Coruscant rose and set on me. Come on, now. I'm hardly a world unto myself." _Stupid discussion. Unworthy of a Master. I'm not letting it pass, though._

_You are __**my**__ world. Will these babies change our lives very much?_ "When the younglings get here, I'll think of names. Before then, they're an abstraction and until you are big as the Temple, and maybe not even then, I'll deal with what I have to deal with and not worry about what hasn't happened yet." _Change the subject. _"What are the HoloNet sites you wanted to show me?"

_Just wait until you see __**this.**_ Obi-Wan thrust himself into the comm station's seat and punched up a site so fast that Anakin knew it was on the station's HotList. "Here."

"'JediDom'? Sounds innocuous."

"_Not _ 'Jedidom.' Jedi ... _Dom, you _know -- "

"Oh." Anakin grabbed a datapad from the sliding stack on the station's counter, added the sites indicated to its screen and settled onto the sofa nearby. The heightened waves of emotion coming off Obi-Wan reminded him of the Corellian teens and he didn't want to be too close to him. Obi-Wan obtained the same sites on another datapad and pressed himself next to Anakin. The waves of disturbance increased as Obi-Wan began to read aloud.

"'Obi-Wann had not the Force, but he had Annakin. Would that be enough? And why was he always hyper in hyperspace?'" After selecting a recently updated multi-chapter story entitled _The Sweetest Tears,_ Obi-Wan slapped his datapad to scroll past the story's summary and read further. "Oh, get this: 'Obi-Wann cries prettily, Annakin thought as he gathered his petite Councilor' -- that's 'Master' in this bit of fiction, by the way -- 'into his embrace and comforted him. The strongly-built Paladin took care not to chafe his own razor-spiked Force-inhibiting collar against Obi-Wann's abraded skin. Their fellow prisoners gave them as much privacy as they could, huddling against magnasteel bars in the far corner as all inmates alike dreaded the return of the Trimdoshan Jailor with the slashing whip. Dawn broke just outside the crowded cell, but no hopes rose with it.'" Obi-Wan lurched to his feet, a little slower than he might have done last month. He paced. "'Petite?' 'Councilor?' '_Cries prettily?_' These authors have made me into a complete ninny. I'm not competent enough to be human, let alone a Jedi Knight, let alone a Councilmember. I'm going to sue. These writers hate me. It's libel." He paced further, getting a little out of breath.

"They hate me more. Here's something incredible on _this_ archive: 'Annakin stabbed the droid's braincase, then flew backwards as Dookuu's Force-push missed him and toppled instead the Duke's own crack squad of IF-69 Terminator Droids. The Pilot With No Fear _floated_ near the cracked cave ceiling, pulling down the nearby stonework arch where the aged Duke stood with his arms outstretched, black cloak flapping with the air displacement. The keystone hit Dookuu squarely atop his silvered head, causing a satisfying _splat_ that made the young Paladin break into a bloodthirsty smile. Dookuu brushed off the killing blow with impunity granted by a Shith's legendary fortitude and sprinted to his Solar Sloop.'" Anakin chuckled. "So Jedi can fly, Sith can't be killed and Masters 'cry prettily.' And I am bloodthirsty. Hoo boy." Anakin thumbed placeholders in his datapad and switched it off. "I thought Jedi didn't sue, though."

**_I_**_ am different, and along with the creation of the twins, I'll tell you why. _"The Code is changed, we stand up for ourselves more now, and with you back in action, the war will be over soon. I think we would have a case."

_No pressure. Riiight. _"But Obi-Wan, where's the harm? Can't you laugh it off?" This was Obi-Wan in full Masterly mode, flaring into fierceness for small blobs of baby that couldn't know how much they were loved all the more for being unresponsive.

"Could Pierpont laugh it off? Or little Jerusha?" The two latest names on their list weren't Anakin's favorites, but he indulged Obi-Wan in this, as in most other things now. When their twins were born, Anakin intended to look into their faces, red and wrinkled as they would likely be, and ask the Force for names. "They will possibly have a tough row to hoe as it is, even though the revised Code is much less restrictive. And younglings, even Jedi younglings, can be thoughtless. Changing our names and titles slightly in this fiction doesn't make it right to publish such untruths. Think of the little tear-filled eyes, Anakin, how can we as parents bear it, just considering it makes me ... makes me ... " Obi-Wan called on the Force to continue. "If I _can_ prevent heartbreak, I will. I'll speak to Barrister Orzo tomorrow. I won't take this lying down."

"Speaking of lying down ... you should."

"Don't patronize me. This is _serious."_

"I'd never patronize you. I don't like to see you this upset, particularly when it's _years_ before little Jerusha or Pierpont could read, and we as parents certainly would censor them reading _this_. Likely all those archives will be forgotten by then. Here, have some muja juice."

"It doesn't taste good to me anymore. I want some koi-broth." Substituting synthesized koi-broth for the natural hoi-broth assuaged Obi-Wan's inexplicable craving for the stuff without risking reawakening his allergies. It was an endurable compromise, perhaps even a life-saving one. Merely the smell of the real item gave him hives, an unhappy pregnancy side-effect of his enhanced midichlorian count. "And only look at the dates on this archive. Nine _years_ old. That's saying a lot for the misguided loyalties of this archive's contributors, or followers, or sycophants, or toadies, or _corrup_-- "

"I'm going to shut you down, Obi-Wan. Here." It was Threepio's weekend with the Jedi. His protocol algorithms kept him quiet in a corner while the dispute was ongoing, but at a wave from his Maker, he tilted his golden head to indicate receptiveness to any order. "Threepio, koi-broth for Master Obi-Wan. Make sure it's chilled properly."

_I exist to serve. And to point out inconsistencies._ "Right away, Maker. There is some excellent last year's vintage left. Just the thing for ... reflection." Threepio's upgrade after his mindwipe two years ago left his server's protocols intact and had removed most of his ditheriness. Emotional readings for humans came much more easily, and his knowledge of human physiology had been expanded. Master Obi-Wan's bloated condition yesterday morning had taken Anakin one full half-hour to explain to the protocol droid. Surprisingly, Artoo had needed no such expansion pack. Threepio would not admit it to him, but he had been impressed with Artoo's almost intuitive grasp of the Jedi's gravid state. After Anakin's lecture, Artoo tootled to Threepio in Bocce, as if the two Jedi could have overheard and understood any more forthright code, that Obi-Wan's hair was curlier and thicker than ever before, a benefit of the middle trimester of a human pregnancy. Threepio had asked how he noticed this minute fact, and Artoo admitted shamedly that he had a leftover bit of code from when he was Palpatine's spy. He had been searching their trash for clues of anything suspicious when he found hairbrush leavings in the garbage. Artoo had noticed the wavy strands right away.

"Did you report it to Spymaster Tholme?" Threepio tootled in a subdued tone, glancing around.

"No. Tholme is not _my_ master. Besides, he seems distracted lately. I think it is called 'losing one's center'."

Threepio had ruminated for a full minute. "You did well."

_"Boootweeeet!"_

"You do, occasionally. Don't act so surprised that I said it." Threepio had continued inventorying the spice chest.

When Anakin woke up the third day after his return from Cularin, Obi-Wan had already left, leaving a snippy note about ensuring his offspring's future mental health. Anakin shrugged it off and went for a swim.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

The Jedi such as the three Praci who nearly lived their entire lives in the Council of First Knowledge spire, studying ancient texts and expounding superannuated theories, delegated such few laundry and cooking chores to Padawans too awestruck by their Masters' intellect to protest. It seemed such Masters were paired with unassuming Padawans, the ones who were not on the warrior-diplomat career paths, the ones who would be Temple-based. It was nigh impossible to become angry with such learned Jedi; their obscurity, their appreciation of and devotion to learning was such that Yoda and other Councilmembers thought of them seldom, and when they did, it was with a bemused smile and dismissive, "If we ever need their arcane knowledge, we know where to go." Adi had not approached them for recruitment purposes at all; the new Code _seemed_ like something they would despise, but their special needs would overwhelm her small resources and so she rationalized away gathering their personal opinions. It would simply be too much trouble to provide for Praci needs. It was satisfactory to Adi that Siri agreed fully with this opinion. "They're here if you ever need them," Siri shrugged. "Master Yoda would loan them out to you." Adi had stopped asking Siri if she would accompany Adi in the longterm; it was enough to have her help in the move out.

Tyler Orzo was a case in point. He was the most approachable of the Praci, a blob of Jedi in his usual plasticine-lined unisuit that oozed out of the Council of First Knowledge spire for the Jedi Annual Picnic and Open Temple Tour, which the Order had not put on in three years now. Many beings treated Praci like they were not sentient at all; Orzo was extremely good-natured about it. When Obi-Wan approached him about a possible lawsuit against the maintainers of the JediDom archive, Tyler bubbled enthusiastically about being considered for a Councilmember's opinion. He formed hands and wrung them, he molded large lashless blue eyes and opened them to an inhuman degree after hearing Obi-Wan's complaint before crinkling them at the corners shrewdly.

"So you don't think that I have a case?" Obi-Wan had stopped pacing when Tyler rippled out a 'not exactly' in his unique burbling tones.

"Mmmm, I wouldn't say that. I _would_ say that it borders on the frivolous. Who reads these spurious stories?"

"Sedentary beings with too much time on their hands. Beings curious about Jedi lives in this Temple and _our_ lives, my partner's and mine, in particular." _And what will they put on the 'Net after the twins arrive? What speculation will they make about my babies' training and personal day-to-day goings-on? Nip it in the bud, __**nip**__ it in the bud. _"This isn't widely known, Tyler, but when my younglings are born, there is bound to be HoloNet gossip about their ancestry, their genesis and I -- and naturally, Knight Skywalker, too -- want to forestall any trouble for the littles. A _successful _lawsuit would make beings think twice."

"'Born'? You'll not bud, mmmm?" A third eye appeared on the Praci's idea of a well-shaped head and stared at Obi-Wan's pregnant shape. "You look ripe enough."

"No, I'll not bud, Tyler. I am human. I'm going to give birth." _I never, never thought I would utter those words. _

"Where were you grafted? Was it painful?"

"I _wasn't_ -- no, it wasn't painful. It was very pleasurable, if you must know. Try to focus, Tyler. This is real life, not something up in your spire. This is earnest for me. The details aren't important, the potential harm _is_. We are in agreement that younglings must be protected, isn't that right?" _Establish common ground. Negotiating with a fellow negotiator, what a tiresome thing._

The Praci considered, slapping two pairs of hands together in an squelching, irritating manner. "Mmmm, you do not have standing in this case."

"What? 'Obi-Wann' and 'Annakin' are only slight variations on our given names. It's libel." Obi-Wan spat out the detested names.

All of Tyler's eyes disappeared and his head became a featureless balloon, larger than ever. His voice issued from nowhere and everywhere. "I have screened tomes from millenia ago with those names. They are not as rare as you think. If I can do it, other barristers can. That's our specialty. 'Obi-Wann' was the name of a dynasty of Jedi, back when Padawans took their Master's names in honor of their own training. Such dynasties lasted until the members passed into the Force with no issue of a living Knight who could become a Master. The rules then were one Padawan per Master's lifetime." Tyler, with no Padawan himself, managed to convey both his distaste for the practice of three millenia ago and a dollop of gratitude that it had been abandoned.

"And 'Annakin'?"

"Oh, mmmm, that is the name of a skilled conceptual artist from the last century. She was particularly adept at making holovids with little stories combined to make one larger narrative; she won awards for that."

"Quite, yes, I have seen one, now that you mention it. _Jolly Juke-Jockeys Jinking Their Joysticks, _funny, yes, but Tyler -- "

One eye reformed and a bulge of brow frowned deeply. "And you did not note the conceptual artist, given the similarity with your partner's name? Lackadaisical, don't you think?"

_I watch holovids to relax, not create statistics, like you do. _"Back on point, Tyler, I'll concede that I may have been _slightly_ touchy about the subject. I'll follow your advice and move on." A thought burned itself into his consciousness. "Could you clear your schedule and work with me on a problem in the Analysis Room? There is a crystal being reverse engineered and I'd like to know if there is precedent in its construction."_ Flattery will get a Jedi everywhere. _"The SP-4's have reached a dead end. _You_ may have some helpful bit of ancient knowledge -- "

"Mmmm, me, work with a member of our Council?" Tyler's semi-solid osmotic body threatened to bubble out the head of his special container suit. "Mmmm, me?"

_Are we that imposing? _"Yes, I'd like it to be a priority."

"Of course! Right now!" The Praci's nucleus with its pulsing heart throbbed noticeably in its usual location beneath his left sleeve. Obi-Wan tried not to look at it as they headed down to the elevator.

_Meanwhile, in the Council Chambers ..._

_"Mace,_ why am I here?"

"You're making Master Yoda concerned about your behavior and appearance, Tholme. I volunteered to speak with you in person since he is out of touch."

Tholme sank into a vacant seat, the one belonging to Obi-Wan, he thought. _Perhaps I can absorb some of his balance. _"Thanks for making it private, anyway."

"When you have someone who has gone wrong in your life, it leaves a mark, a stain. That never goes away, Tholme." _I haven't been to see Depa yet this week. She doesn't recognize me anyway. _"You and I have something in common."

_"Why_?"

"'Why' what?" _I'm not getting through._

"Why was she bored, what would she have had with Dooku and not here, 'why' everything."

"Saa was Neti, with a different perspective. Even Master Yoda hasn't her longrange view of life." _I need you focused. I Sense that the war is coming to a tipping point. _

"_Is._ She's still alive." _In the dark and cold, waiting to become thinner and thinner in her spirit until it gutters out._

_Now for the hard part of this conversation. Talk like you understand, Mace, because you do. _"Let her go, Tholme. We need you to concentrate on what intel Yoda and Secura send us."

"I will. I must." Tholme straightened in Obi-Wan's seat. _I need to work. _"That's intel work, isn't it. So much information to wade through, figure out what is important, leave the dross behind ... "

Mace ran a hand over his smooth scalp and Tholme bound up his flowing hair as they reviewed the data that Yoda and Aayla had sliced.

TBC

a/n "Night and Morning" (1925) poem by Dorothy Keeley Aldis, all rights to her estate; source: oldpoetryDOTcom. Two M-words and one pronoun changed, the obvious ones.


	47. Chapter 47

Regork found himself rubbing the base of his tail stub again, wondering if the bacta had started to regenerate his musk gland, or even if it could. Without his gland, he could not give off the soothing waves of pheromones that aided his patients to relax enough to unburden themselves. He thought that being a Soul Healer_ was _light convalescent duty, but the Council had thought otherwise and had confined him to half-days in his refurbished office treating patients, the other half "something completely out of your comfort zone, something to heal _you, _Healer." Working with Obi-Wan, Tyler Orzo and Six in the Analysis Room, with the occasional commed consultation with Plo Koon, had certainly diverted his attention from his wound and he wondered if today were the day that they would see a breakthrough. He hoped so. Working with a Praci, especially _this_ Praci, made him nervous. Praci were so _happy._

_"Obi-Wan, _I'm _Praci_. I can't touch the crystal, mmmm, as you can," Tyler burbled, "but now that you've changed your mind about the lawsuit, shall we focus on the crystal problem, mmmm?" The electrical discharge from the nodes on the duraformica lab table could have turned him to sludge in seconds, but the knowledge of his closeness to sudden death didn't stop his infectious laugh.

Obi-Wan shot Tyler a look before turning his attention to regulating the amperage of the electrical discharge. _What about client-negotiator privilege? What about keeping your, your, orifice shut about litigation that was discussed but not initiated, mmmm, mmmm?_ Tyler's memory might be prodigious, but in the three weeks that they had been colleagues in the lab, Obi-Wan had had to hold his tongue more often than he liked about Tyler's blithe ability to discuss absolutely _everything_ in the cheerful assumption that what happened in the Jedi family, stayed in the Jedi family. _He's been up in his spire too long to connect with the idea that Jedi have privacy among themselves, especially those in a relationship. _Still rankled about the slur on his and Anakin's names from the fiction authors, but willing to follow the barrister's advice to channel his energy into further research, Obi-Wan forced himself to move on. "Yes, well. As you say."_ I can't think about Anakin and the twins every single minute of the day. Onward. _He turned the amperage up a click.

Tyler continued chortling merrily. The flask containing the crystal looked ominous, as if it could be holding secrets to ending the war or at least to giving the Republic forces an edge to gain more victories. At the present, crysties had replaced all metal infantry droids and the preponderance of seafaring droids on watercraft. Tinnies still flew in space battles; the rapid fluxes of gravity rattled crysties and turned them into incohesive useless piles on the seats of their Vulture-class droid starfighters. In the heat of battle before they could reform, they were slagged by clone pilots. The Separatists seemed to have adjusted their forces: tinnies in the air and hyperspace, crysties to gain the field on land and sea. The war was at a stalemate after nearly four years.

Six kept his eyes on the flask. His strategy of water cannons had led to Republic victories on ten worlds of plains and plateaus, dustballs that could be turned into quagmires with water cannons eroding the soil, producing a run of sloughs in which the crysties floundered. His General and the other Jedi kept him on detached duty, to "input his unique experiences into the laboratory experience." His General deserved all the help he could get; Six considered Obi-Wan a casualty of the war. Surely to be in his physical condition was a wound, of sorts? Of the other two Jedi, Regork was another walking wounded trooper. Occasionally, Regork would sway or stumble without his tail to counterbalance his movements and after a few days of this, Six had offered to show him a few martial arts movements to aid the Glarsaur's balance, for which effort Regork hissed his thanks. Six schooled his features when the garrulous Praci was around him. It took all Six's tolerance to stay in the same room with the gabby Jedi who could not _possibly _help --

"Sir!"

"What is it, Six?" Obi-Wan leaned in, adjusting his loupe to observe the crystal. "Progress?"

"Mmmm, Regork, stop that with your claws and take a look at this! I knew it, mmmm, I _knew_ that the application of an electrical field would do _something!_" Tyler formed three large circles in the area that most termed his face; the circles moved about until they aligned to form an expression of two large eyes and a mouth wide open in shock.

"Here, stand back, it's going to -- "

_Blam! _The crystal splintered into dust, coating the inside of the reinforced flask. Dust that could not possibly reform, though they all waited as if fearing that the dust would readhere into crystals and they would have to start experimenting all over again. The dust remained dust.

_"Oya!_" "We did it!" "Which planet shall we unveil it on, I think that -- " "_Blubble_knewthatholocronwouldnotletmedown_glrrrpplorborba!"_

_Got you, Dooku. And you, too, Grievous. _Obi-Wan sank upon a lab stool. "Everyone, this is the first test that has a solid case for success. It's late, we all need to come back tomorrow morning with fresh minds. Regork, you and Six work on your balance this evening. Tyler, my deepest thanks."

"Piezoelectric materials," Tyler began to spout, his head now showing only one wide open seething orifice that Obi-Wan averted his eyes from, "also show the opposite effect, that of converse piezoelectricity, where the application of an electrical field creates a mechanical deformation in a crystal. When a mechanical stress is applied, this symmetry is disturbed, and the charge asymmetry generates a voltage across the material. For example, a _one_-centimeter cube of quartz with _two -- _" He had no need to stop for breath and Obi-Wan kept his gaze fixed firmly on the crystal while the Praci rambled on. _We've finally got something, a solid lead to success. Now to implement it._ Obi-Wan smiled and nodded in the right places._ Anakin won't be home yet. I have a chance to decompress for a few hours and by the stars, I'm going to take it. _The others filtered out of the lab, laughing and bouncing on their feet in joy. Obi-Wan began to tidy up. _Anakin leaves tomorrow for his mission. If I believed in the Naboo's Goddess of Safety, I'd burn a candle to Her now. _He left the lab secure and headed for the hangar and his modded speeder bike. _A ride in the cool autumn air to the Esplanade, just what I need._

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Obi-Wan dropped the decorative pillow shaped like an eopie when the Vice-Chancellor of the Republic backed into him in the cozily crowded upscale shop for younglings' attire.

"I beg your pardon, so much to enjoy here, isn't this lovely -- Obi-Wan _Kenobi?" _Padme clutched the froufrou around the neckline of the three girl's dresses that she was holding. "Master Jedi, you're -- you're -- "

"I am. Consider me as a shapeshifter, Your Excellency. It makes things easier to think of, somehow." _And now on to business. _"You're not alone, surely?" Obi-Wan stepped closer to Padme, brushing aside his robe so that she could see his lightsaber. "I'm able to escort you anywhere you need to go." _I'll return to shop in peace later. And why is __**she **__in this_ _particular shop? _

_You. And Anakin. _"Congratulations. Erm, I told my bodyguard that I wanted the _illusion_ of privacy. She's here somewhere, and my driver knows teras kasi because of her training and -- " _I never want to know the details of something like this. The ways of the Force and its users scare me. -- _"I'm on the hunt for just the right tarine tea party dress for Pooja. She is having her eighth Life Day next week. I don't suppose you know this, but _Yoon's Youngling Boutique_ outfits up to the age of twelve Standard for humans." She stopped. "I like younglings, you know. They don't have to be mine for me to _like _them." _Why didn't Anakin mention this?_

"Padme, my pillow, please." _I will not, will not use the Force to pick up something I've dropped._

"Of course."

"Thank you." Obi-Wan bowed and turned to leave the aisle.

_I never want to go through what you're going through. Not even with Enri, if we pursue things. We'll adopt. _"Obi-Wan."

_I am a Master. I can handle this. "_Yes."

"For what it is worth, I am happy for you and Anakin. I can't think of a better set of parents than you two, whether you live in the Temple with the Jedi or go off on your own with your, uh, other group of Jedi."_ Don't use the word 'rebel' even though that is what they are. _She offered a smile which Obi-Wan returned. By the time he had finished shopping, she had departed, unfulfilled in her quest for the perfect frock.

_I'm purchasing this. _A carriage for twin younglings, just the thing. I can't rely on someone to want to carry them all the time, not even Anakin, not even me, Obi-Wan thought. He spent the last of his stipend on the deluxe model, advertised to have ultra-quiet repulsors. There were pockets and slots for things that he couldn't even imagine.

"Deliver it to the Jedi Temple, please." The clerk gave no sign that she thought the purchase was unusual. He headed for the Esplanade's speeder park. _My speeder bike. Thank the stars that I can still pilot it. I don't know if I'd chance riding a STAP, though. _There was a grand opening of some shop or other up ahead on the walkway, complete with a smarmy speaker flourishing outsized cutters over a large cerise ribbon. There must have been some famous sponsor in the ceremony, because a cadre of journalists crowded about with their holocams. Suddenly, one turned away from her assignment, spotted Obi-Wan in his robes and nudged her colleague. Recording the celebrity's doings seemed forgotten as one after the other pointed holocams in Obi-Wan's direction, holding them over the heads of the crowd to capture his pregnant image. _Protect the younglings. It's hardwired into me. _He mapped an alternate route to the speederpark as he eluded the crowd's fringes. One member of the holocam-crazy segment followed, more agile than the rest. A flash, a fatuous grin on a Gran's muzzle and if that Gran had been the only member of the paparazzi to consider him newsworthy enough to follow, Obi-Wan might have been equanimical about things, but suddenly there were five more, pointing, falling to their knees to get an upwards shot that would accentuate his unusual size and it all became too much for Obi-Wan. He turned away, walking briskly because if he stayed in place he might have been tempted to Force-push them all away from him violently. He walked as fast as he could, but they followed, elbowing other patrons of the Esplanade, slithering through sets of parents holding younglings' hands, changing the murmur of the crowd to a hubbub. In a flash, he was surrounded. He spun around to face them, pushing his way backward to where his observing-without-looking told him there was a narrow service walkway between the protective railing on the walkway and an exotic fruit shop. He turned his head to gauge the width of the walkway, the paparazzi surged forward, his bootheel skidded on a discarded fruit peeling and his center of gravity shifted. He flipped backwards over the railing.

_I'm falling, like in Anakin's vision._ Obi-Wan felt as weightless as he did swimming in the pools of the Temple and blissfully at peace, the hounding paparazzi with their flashes and intruding beaks gone from sight and sound. For a split second, time stood still and he closed his eyes. A passing Pa'lowick on a distant lateral walkway blatted as if in a hot jizz band solo and the notes shot through Obi-Wan's head. He opened his eyes enough to see walkways crisscrossing fifty meters below him, one at one level, one at another. _Wish I had a Togruta's spatial sense. _He would hit the first walkway, bounce off it and impact the second, there, near its entrance to a garish dress shop whose enticing bolts of cloth seemed like something Amidala would enjoy purchasing. _**No.**__ This will not happen. _Knowing what the twins would do next and gritting his teeth against it, he called on the Force to pull an old-fashioned hanging lamp's chain to him, grabbed it with one hand while he supported his abdomen against the snapping of the rebound action. But the twins acted differently than ever before. When his hand lost its grip on the chain and it began to slip through his fingers, the friction burn eased as something like a glove surrounded his stinging fingers. As if on a Padawan rope-climbing exercise in the salles, his descent slowed enough for him to swing his legs and aim for the lower walkway, missing the crisscrossing one above it. When he reached the walkway, making a neat feet-together landing, the glove disappeared. Beings of all species rushed to his side, chattering their concern, pointing upward to the arc of his wild descent, not quite daring to reach out and pat his shoulder reassuringly. In a daze, he rubbed his hand. It was flushed, but the skin was not broken, not peeled off from the friction. _Thanks, littles._ The twins kicked ferociously as if to communicate their glee. Obi-Wan pushed his way through the crowd, nodding to indicate his wellbeing, smiling to calm everyone. The crowd parted to release him and surged back together to discuss the excitement. Soon, they drifted away, all except for the few hangers-on whom the paparazzi interviewed, visions of bonuses fueling their chatter. Obi-Wan's mood blackened again on the ride home. The next morning, when Yoda had briefed the Kenobi/Skywalker team on their mission to force Dooku and Grievous to ground, he was still in a funk.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

"Master Yoda is late to the hangar, after all his lectures about punctuality." Anakin jostled his duffel over his shoulder, eager to be on the hunt. His new persona fit him well, Obi-Wan thought. _Black on black outfit, except for the vest and the blaster. He's going off on his own again._ Now that he had been fully awakened to what an attachment meant, Obi-Wan knew it might be beyond his strength to lose one from his life. He and Qui-Gon had loved each other as true friends, but what he had with Anakin went beyond friendship and if he were never to see Anakin again ... _Eh. I go in and out like the tide in these feelings. The prospect of living without Anakin is more dismal than it has any right to be. Must be low tide._

In one corner of the hangar stood a newly-modded sparkling Delta-7 Aethersprite that Obi-Wan and Anakin both had fine-tuned. It sparkled because they had deemed a matte finish too dull for a spice smuggler. There was a cover story in place about Anakin's smuggler background that Obi-Wan had rehearsed tirelessly with Anakin. Anakin made certain to flourish his Glarsaur hide vest, made from Regork's tail. Take it, Regork had said. It makes me feel part of your mission. I never have been on a mission, you know. Regork's contribution to the modding had been to fetch and carry and admire. There was a place for him in the modding crew, along with faraway Saesee. Saesee had input a few suggestions from Dantooine, but Anakin could tell his mind was elsewhere, settling in to a co-leader position with Adi. Siri had yelled raucous encouragement from the background. As a Councilmember, Obi-Wan knew that Siri's next mission would begin directly from Dantooine after her escort of Adi and Saesee and ARC5231 and the rest of the Olanet Three Hundred ended in one week. He missed Siri.

"Far be it from me to hold you back, Anakin. Leave to go find him."

_What has gone wrong? _"I _know _you'd rather be in the field. Now you can't. I'm trying to keep you in the loop with all this traveling I'm doing. What do you _want, _can't you _see_ I'm trying -- "

_What do I want? Nothing but you. _"Be the best in the field yourself. I'll continue to liaise as well as work on the crystals. With Tyler's help, it's only a matter of time before we have an complete answer."

_Time. 'Make time your friend,' Master Porrie always said. Yes, but how, Master Porrie? You are safely __**out**__ of time now. And Obi-Wan's condition is marching __**through**__ time so kriffing inevitably. _This compromise is the kind of thing that lovers do, too, Anakin thought. He was trying to frame his thoughts into coherence when a venerable, loved presence approached._ "_Master Yoda is coming now. Can you tell?"

Obi-Wan didn't bother. "I don't want to use the Force at the moment. They kick all the harder when I do and it will distract me from looking at you, seeing your face for the last time in what may be ye-- " Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest in that way that he had when thinking through a problem or having a difficult conversation. "No. I didn't mean to say that." Obi-Wan made a conscious effort and placed his hands at his sides. Then he clenched Anakin's bicep almost painfully. "You've changed, inside and out. It's asking a lot of me now to get used to it quickly, but I will, I will. I promise you." Obi-Wan riffled Anakin's beard. "It's like looking into a mirror."

_You're dreaming while wide awake, Master. _"I'll take care of it. It's the kind of thing lovers do for each other. When I come back, it'll be gone. I promise _you._" _But I wouldn't be human if I didn't want to enjoy it a __**little**__ while longer. _They lingered in a goodbye kiss.

Yoda turned back when they were finished. "Briefed, you both have been. This chip, duplicates there are. Master Secura, smuggled five of them _personally _off Nar Shaddaa with _great_ difficulty herself. Invaluable, she is." Yoda cracked a small smile, the first in weeks, Obi-Wan Sensed. "Like the Great Hunt of so long ago, this is, but like Qel-Droma and Nuur and Saresh, we are _not._ Fall out over romantic entanglements, we shall _not."_ Obi-Wan saw that Yoda's claws had worn new grooves into his _naynabo_ gimer stick, evidence that he had needed it to nurture blandness on Nar Shaddaa._ I don't want to know what you disguised yourself as on Nar Shaddaa, or how Aayla hooked up with you to pass on the information she sliced from 8t-88's database. _Obi-Wan tried harder to concentrate on Yoda's words. _But I need to know what Anakin is heading into._

Yoda began with a mournful sigh. "A droid with vengeance integrated into his hard drive, 8t88 was. If living being he had been, poisoned the air around him, he would have with his dark thoughts. Confused, filled with hatred he was except for one other: his hornagaunt pet."

_It's even more astounding to hear it said again. A droid with a living pet._ "Master Yoda, I have credits in my vest, I have a transponder injected in my clavicle and I have the best support team ever. I _think_ I am well prepared." _Humility? Can I hear some humility?_ "I'll finish what you and Aayla set up for me. You two have done the truly difficult work."

Obi-Wan smiled genuinely when Anakin left, the young Knight waggling his control surfaces jauntily. _Oh, I've got a good feeling about this._

_Meanwhile, on Dantooine's smaller moon ..._

_A home of my own, right under their supercilious noses! _Dooku surveyed his new home. It had been described as a three-bedroom split-level with a pool, but it was so much more that Dooku was pleased beyond his fondest hopes. _All new carpeting, not anything as elegant or fitting as terentatek, but a napped carpet is not to be sneezed at. And a room that Grievous can plot his campaigns in, and a servant's room. A droid servant. Ah, well. _

"Milord, your shuttle awaits." _Downsizing. He must be humiliated. _Grievous was as nomadic as ever and when he thought hard enough about it, he was certain he had always been. He had no need of a home, only honor, glory and Jedi lightsabers that he collected steadily. Last month had been a record month.

_He has his uses. _"Program my droid to clean thoroughly and download my cuisine preferences. Take care to enable the security system and integrate its web with the droid's central brain. Do not fail me."

"Yes, Milord Dooku." _If there were any other Dark Lord to ally myself with ..._

_Snippy. I definitely heard snippy undertones in that reply. _"Warm the shuttle. These late autumn winds chill the bones." _I'll use the kudana cloak this evening._

"Will Milord be very much longer? The battle timetable you authorized is quite precise." _Hurry up._

_Might as well go. No more auctions for Honest1. A little holonews before departing. _Dooku stood in lieu of sitting on the floor. A hunt for furniture was the next item on the agenda. He punched the holocomm which was sitting on two sawhorses. _At least we'll get Coruscant on this thing._

"'The ways of the Force are mysterious indeed. A pregnant Jedi was spotted on the Glitannai Esplanade today, shopping for his offspring as if it were the most common event in the galaxy. He became belligerent when approached by our crusading staff and his own clumsiness led him nearly to disaster. I apologize for the quality of these clips. The Jedi was seen making a pass with one finger before his accident nearly claimed his and his unborn youngling's lives. Our fearless staff reported momentary dizziness and upon recovering, they had pressed the 'blur' control on their holocams. This was the best of the lot."

Dooku snorted. _This is the Order I swore fealty to all those long years ago. Pregnant male Jedi. Hmmph._ "Our gallant staff could not place him among the Jedi that they had covered before. It is possible that he has been in seclusion out of shame. The revised Code has been denigrated by many old-time Jedi, the stalwart ones that we of the Republic have respected for so long -- " _Impossible. What I just saw is impossible.  
_

"Milord, the time -- "

" -- will wait for another minute. Go along now and warm it up as I asked, there's a good cyborg."

_He's acting agreeable to me? _Grievous offered, "I'll program the droid double-quick, Milord, and wait for you in the transport."

"Yes. Do that."

TBC


	48. Chapter 48

Anakin knew the endless waiting on dreary, polluted, crime-ridden Nar Shaddaa had gotten him down when he began to think about his shortcomings. _Is it because of my Outer Rim accent that it has taken me six weeks to get this far to His Highness' presence? Obi-Wan never mentions it, but his speech patterns and mine are different._

"And just why should His Highness see you?" snapped a protocol droid, bloated with self-importance in its position as 8t88's majordomo. The large overhead fans pushed the heated air of 8t88's penthouse foyer downwards into the antechamber, which scorned seating for inferior sentients such as humans. Anakin had been waiting in a line outside the main entrance of the tatty five-story building in the winter rain and slush for two hours since dawn today, sizing up whether or not he could mind control the Phlog guarding the door. He was in no mood to lose his advantage in the line of supplicants for this droid's favors. He was particularly not anxious to see the sludge of Nar Shaddaa once more, either the living sludge of down-on-their-luck beings or the detritus of a society whose infrastructure included few garbage pickups. The stench alone nearly made him drop his character. He swore it gathered in his beard, where he smelled it everytime he inhaled. _I'll shave the beard right after this meeting. Obi-Wan, you win._

Anakin held his ground as he thought a tough smuggler might. He glowered, he swaggered, he curled his lip into a smirk. Shifting one hip forward, tapping his blaster meaningfully, he drawled, "_This_ says so." He flung a handful of thousand credit doubloons on the countertop of the majordomo's work station. "_And_ these," he rumbled, putting on the face that had appeared on Palo's rendition of him in the holocard run of _Jousting Jedi._ No frown, he thought, no sneer, just portray purpose. And he did.

The droid's optical receptors brightened. Apparently, 8t88 had programmed his own greed into his staff. The droid clawed the currency into its internal cash drawer. Anakin could see troguts, pokes of aurodium dust and some bills of small denominations, along with crystalline vertex and lowly decicreds. _All currency is grist for 8t88's mill. Even Gardulla turned up her tail at decicreds _

_"Boy!"_ A human 'tween who was all gangly limbs with the threat of more gangliness in his next five years trotted up, wiping his nose on a sleeve that used to be white. He looked as if regular meals were a longheld dream. What would an info droid know of child care, thought Anakin, and pitied the boy with the scab on his chin. "Boy, show this one to the Throne Room." Anakin sauntered down the corridor after the boy, who stole a look backward and adopted the same gait. Anakin supposed the boy didn't see many fellow humans and was craving a role model._ How could he bear it, living only with droids? _

The boy pressed the slender hands of a musician or a mechanic against the seams of his worn black trousers and bobbed a rough bow to his employer. "Captain Alapmi!" he announced, then gave a sly wink to Anakin as he departed through the aurodium-plated door. _Eh, he'll be all right somehow. _

Anakin made a show of staring at the sleepy hornagaunt's solid aurodium collar and the similar expensive water dish and then turned his attention casually, disrespectfully to the droid reclining on the dais. _Don't push the attitude, don't look at his head, __**don't**__ mention its tiny disproportionate size, do not use the word 'head' at all. _The hornagaunt began to snore, its wingstubs quivering. Anakin recalled the beast's name was Grendel. The scar on Anakin's face that makeup extended sideways to his ear and up to his hairline hadn't intimidated the formidable creature at all, nor had the cast to the eye that the scar transfixed. It had been a near thing that his eye had not a whitish cast for real.

8t88 took in the Glarsaur hide vest and the odd curve of the flaps called 'lips.' _He's human. I hate him. He's a smuggler. I hate him. He might add to my database of information. I'll tolerate his presence._ _Speak, meat, so I may analyze you. _"State your purpose, strange one."

"I hear you're the head of all infochants on Nar Shaddaa. I have someone I'd like more dirt on, you know, hurt him where he lives." Anakin paused for effect. "Someone else I know might have been here before me, snooping around, a little green troll and a gorgeous Twi'lek. I'll stick it to _them,_ too, understand?" Another beat. "Credits are no object. Been lucky at the sabacc tables lately."

Anakin's adopted homeworld of Tatooine served him well today because his desert accent, little changed since his boyhood, made 8t88's extremely perceptive audio sensors run a full diagnostic on his voice, decide that Alapmi was suitably roughhewn and therefore the flowcharts of 8t88's heuristic processors ended at 'yes -- acceptable to do business with.' 8t88 stopped patting Grendel, who rolled onto his side with a groan and a fart. 8t88 switched off his nasal receptors. "How many credits can you generate? I can imagine quite a bit."

"Two ... and a half million." _Start low. Negotiate from there. Thanks, Master. _The hornagaunt's emissions did not compare to a bantha's.

8t88 considered. Two and a half million from this lowlife must represent nearly all his resources, though appearances could be deceiving. _Look at me, my head is tiny in proportion to my structure, and yet it could flood this room with information and mockery for these sycophants. _"Two and a half million will cover _one_ of your requests. The troll and the blue beauty will be again as much."

_Five million is nearly all I have with me, excluding mad money for fuel to get home with. _Anakin stroked his beard in that way that Obi-Wan had. He knew why now. The habit made him thoughtfully slow to respond. "Sign a contract?"

There was a tapping noise from 8t88's interior that could have been gears grinding, could have been derisive laughter, Anakin couldn't tell. "I insist on it." The Tiss'shar talons that served for 8t88's hands sheared off the roll of flimsi that issued from a slot in the droid's thin torso. _Beckoning like a courtesan? _There was no other term for it. "Approach me, Alapmi."

Anakin forgot to swagger on his way up to the dais, sidestepping the twitching hornagaunt. 8t88 projected a holocopy of the agreement in the air in front of the Jedi. **Receipt for five million credits in cash for information regarding three beings: Troll, Twi'lek and** **(blank) One time use only. No return policy.** Anakin added 'Count Dooku' in the blank, signed his flimsi copy of the agreement and pocketed it. The flimsi was coded to archive any information that 8t88 came up with. Dooku's name appeared on the hologram. Anakin dug in his vestpocket and handed over the credits in their clear purse, mentally waving goodbye to them. _He didn't even squeak when Dooku's name appeared. He __**is**__ good._

The droid flexed his silver skeleton-body in something that might have been a stretch. He sounded in need of an oil bath. Anakin kept grinning, tilting his head to his shoulder in a way that he had rehearsed with Obi-Wan as a mannerism. "Oh, yes, you're winsome," Obi-Wan had said. "Push down harder. You're activating your transponder." There was a _skek_ noise and a tiny pain that reverberated in his arm implants as the transponder recorded the droid's words. They would appear on the flimsi to take away with him anyway, but the plan was for Obi-Wan and the Temple to begin work immediately on whatever was sent._ 'Chip on my shoulder,' Ferus used to mutter that when he thought I couldn't hear him. Wonder what he's up to these days. _Anakin had placed a real bantha chip on his shoulder the day that Greedo and he had their fight, the one that Qui-Gon had broken up. Cheating was something that Anakin had never done as a youngling, and when Greedo accused him of it, Anakin had remembered his mother's words and given the other the chance to think things through. Greedo's temper flared anyway and when the Rodian had knocked the chip to the ground, the scuffle began. _Now I've got a __**real**__ chip on my shoulder. Hope the Temple is getting all this._

"The hirsute creature known as the Troll and his partner Oola performed magic tricks for my entourage. They used the Force, they _said." They were non-human. I bore their company slightly better than yours._ "They had an offer from a Hologram Fun World talent scout and gave notice. Go there if you wish to derail their careers or blast them. Grendel misses them, doesn't ums, essie _does_, ess, ess ... " Grendel had awakened and grunted his pleasure at the droid's scratching metal digits before resuming his nap. "They never mentioned Dooku, but they _did _need my input for an illusion that I desired. I allowed them use use use offf of offfffff_hrrrrmmmm_**denied them use of my datajacks. **It would have taken them three minutes to access the trick's procedures, but that would have been three minutes without my conscious control." Anakin recognized Aayla's fine hand in the erasure of her work. Three minutes were most likely all they could acquire without the majordomo's interference or more likely, the protective hornagaunt's becoming suspicious and rending both Yoda and Aayla like a terentatek. The chip that Obi-Wan and the rest labored over in the Analysis Room represented many weeks of Yoda's and Aayla's shamming through performance after performance, enough time to establish familiarity so that they could approach this paranoid droid.

"Dooku, ah yes. The political leader of the CIS has been sighted on Jabiim and then most recently on Ossus. He has never come to my world and he never shall, Captain." Anakin agreed. Nar Shaddaa's grunginess would not suit the aristocratic Dooku. He would find it too distasteful to bear. _Five million credits for __**this**__? Push, Anakin. _

"Ossus. Well, _thank_ you. I'd not let it get around that you gave me something that I could have found out on my own, Your Highness, so why don't you give me a little more? Come on, if anyone can do it, you can! Any transactions you can trace? I'm sure he doesn't lack for funds, but how about any draws on his accounts from the Banking Clan? You and I _both_ know he wouldn't carry around cash and bartering trade routes for materiel can get you only so far -- "

_When Grendel awakens, he'll be hungry. Stick around a little longer, meat, and entertain me with your blood. _"Alapmi, hear me. You're pushing."

_Pull back, work on your charm. _"Well, _I _think I'm offering you a chance to prove yourself _to_ yourself. Add more words to this flimsi so I don't have to come back here. And in return" -- _think fast, Captain Alapmi -- "if_ I come across any information about who pulled that head-switching stunt on you, I'll comm you. That is, if you'll accept my comm, I know how busy you are_ heading_ up your little empire here -- "

_Tit for tat, meat. _"You have bold programming. Take care it doesn't backfire on you, strange one. One minute." The droid went motionless the way that Artoo and Threepio did when they powered down, no breath to mark them as alive, no little sleeping twitches such as Obi-Wan gave nowadays. _Obi-Wan, if at all possible I'll work my way back to you when you need me most. I realize the time is drawing near. But the mission comes first. _Anakin marked the time by his pounding heartbeats and when he had reached eighty-five, 8t88's tapping noise resumed.

"A search for homes on several worlds in the Outer Rim. Funding requests to Muunilinst from an interim comm relay near Dantooine. Tatooine information request regarding the Hutts from the Separatist base on Mos Osnoe." 8t88's foot roused Grendel, who yawned, showing all his fangs. "Enough. Take your contract and leave, strange one. That's enough information to hold you." The droid prodded Grendel into a standing position. Anakin could tell that his audience was over.

"I'll be back."_ Always leave an opening to return, Obi-Wan said. Don't burn bridges._

"Get in line. With more credits. And if, by chance, you find the name of the prankster who did this to me -- "

_You had no loyalty to Yoda and Aayla, your employees for months, why should I feel anything for you?_ "I'll comm you. I can be bought." _On the hunt again. Nar Shaddaa, Muunilinst, Tatooine, Dantooine. Mid-Rim to Outer Rim again. I'll need to secure more funds on the credstick. Wartime has driven up fuel prices outrageously. _

"Don't let the security forces shred you on your way out. They have been known to be overzealous, those Wookiees of mine."_ Especially that one with the bandolier. Must give his young human friend extra gruel tomorrow morning. _

_One week later, outside Yoon's Youngling Boutique on Coruscant ..._

Ferus folded his hands inside his winter cloak's sleeves, his breath steaming in the cold night air. "It's been an eventful six months, Siri."

Siri softened her approach after an initial crustiness. _Ferus is seeing you voluntarily after he has been Knighted, Cranky-Wan. Don't be ungrateful. _"I went to your quarters after my mission to Orto and you had moved out, that's all." Siri folded over her shopping bag to obscure its contents from her former Padawan. Inside were two flagrant examples of Palo's _My Little Gualaar_ fripperies, matching onesies sized 'human/near-human/humanoid, birth to three months' decorated with fuzzy stylized gualaars. Siri had heard that twins came earlier than singleton births and wanted to be ready with appropriate gifts for the occasion.

"I'm Master Yoda's ombudsman, Siri. I'm footloose and fancy free, and I can live outside the Temple, alone or, or not. I'm ready." _I've got to ask. Your opinion still means a lot to me._ "Do _you_ think I'm ready?"

_My boy, my boy. _"It's time. I love you, Ferus."_ It is not soft, not weak to say this. _She plucked a stray thread from his tunic and he caught her hand.

"You've never told me that."

"Oh, I did, when you were sick after Euceron and couldn't hear me. But now you can."

"I love you, too." They embraced fiercely. Ferus turned to the somber young woman waiting two steps behind him, one step to the right. "This is my friend, Ommane Retbax, the Junior Senator from Naboo. We met when I was undercover protecting Palo of Naboo. Ommane, my former Master, Siri Tachi." _Master, please like her. _

"Master Tachi."

"Representative Retbax." Ommane bowed first to Siri, who bowed back. They both turned questioning eyes to Ferus, who was beaming.

_They like each other!_ "Siri, Ommane and I are heading out to celebrate the New Year at Eastport's Spacer Lounge. Join us?"

"That's fine, Ferus, and no, thank you. Obi-Wan and I have some catching up to do." _Do we ever._

Siri bridled when Ommane took Ferus' arm and Ferus closed his hand over her fingers, smiling back over his shoulder at Siri as they walked away. _First complaint from Jedi Master Siri Tachi, Ombudsman Olin. This person will use you and you, my baby nerfling, don't even know it. _She pursed her lips to make an accipipteros' morning screech and when the two young people looked back at her, Siri looked into the distance as if she, too, wondered where the sound came from. Ferus didn't break stride walking away, but Ommane looked back over her shoulder and made a wry moue at Siri. Siri studied Ommane's aura and then her hazel eyes and saw a rose-pink of happiness peeking through the hard yellow of Ommane's efficiency. _All right, maybe you are acceptable. For his sake, let's say so. _Ommane slid her left hand into Ferus' right and they swung hands like Initiate Mimo and Initiate Liam did when walking behind Master Ali-Anann.

TBC


	49. Chapter 49

Far below Plo Koon's starfighter, Dantooine looked as somnolent and pastoral as ever. _Is this droid pilot brain part of a new series? It's turning to port after doing that scissors maneuver perfectly and taking out one of ours. Thank the stars that I took out its partner._ Plo saw that he was not going to be able to catch up to the droid ship. A Delta-7 with unusual paint pulled up beside him, pacing him effortlessly. "Fine, Anakin, we'll take it out together," he said to himself, humming a war chant in his usual monotone. He extended a talon to click on his intership comm.

"Anakin, to me! We'll do this, you and I!"

"Copy, Plo. Boing-Boing Maneuver?"

"Exactly." _He's changed. He's reached the potential that Obi-Wan saw in him when I sampled Obi-Wan's mind._

"Code name, code name, keep it on the downlowside, take you out, taaake you out ... _now_." Plo mumbled and hummed and chanted the Kel-Dor litany as he always did in combat flight. His wingmates were mostly used to it. The droid's Vulture-class fighter curled into a vector that would return it to its Lucrehulk-class Droid Control Ship. _Those concentrate fuel slugs only power you for thirty-five minutes, tinnie. The Chosen One and I should be trashing you long before that. _Perfectly coordinated with Anakin's Delta-7, differentiated in appearance only by Anakin's ship's sparkling paint job, Plo opted for smaller boing-boings rather than one large one, as he predicted that Anakin would fly. Sure enough, as Plo relaxed his angle of bank slightly before pulling high over the plane of the droid's flight, right before Plo inverted for the third time he spotted Anakin swooping Master-like over him after their mutual objective. Plo's speed dropped as did Anakin's and their radius of turn diminished. Both on target to the droid sprinting to its home ship for refueling, Plo and Anakin stuttered their fire. The droidship blew apart, whether from their fire or from its self-destruct programming because its link to its control ship were severed or both, they didn't know. They rolled their ships away from the jetsam. _That was like tracing the letter Krill. I started out tracing after the tinnie, skipped over the rest of the letter and caught up with it at the end of the letter. Thanks to the Force for combat flight training._

"Good job, Plo!" Anakin jerked his smoothly-shaven chin downwards to his shoulder, trying to reactivate his recalcitrant transponder. _It lasted me through Tatooine, Ossus, on to the Mid-Rim and now back to the Outer Rim. It's lost power and I don't have the time to fix it._ He shrugged.

"Think they'll rotate another swarm of tinnies out?" Plo checked his chrono and couldn't believe that only twenty minutes had passed since the Second Battle of Dantooine began. _The stars have brought us luck. If we had not brought our noses up high enough, we'd have overshot and missed. That is, if we hadn't collided right above it._

"I think so, do you?"

Plo hummed. "Yes. It's early yet. Seen Siri?"

_Master would be sad if she didn't make it._ "No, you?"

"She contacted Adi on their private channel as soon as we got here, right before you arrived. Siri says that Adi and the rest are safe in their shelter." _We've got to win this one, for their sake. Who knew that the CIS would target Dantooine more than once? It's a peaceful place, or used to be._ "There she is!"

Another starfighter identical to Plo's flew at Plo's port wing. "Adi's going to try something new. Ever hear of a battle meld?" Siri began without preamble.

_Previously, in the Temple Map Room ..._

"Our revised methods of fighting the crystalline droids - thanks to your input, Six - tested well on Boz Pity. Master Tholme says his latest intel from probes and the odd Bothan informant puts the Separatists' biggest upcoming push on Dantooine again." Obi-Wan dropped heavily on the Map Room's uncomfortable plastene seating, one hand to his back. Anakin's dream-purpose and Qui-Gon's teachings on the Living Force have brought me to this pass, he thought, and I've never felt so tired in all my life. Seven months earlier, Adi had planted the new location of the small enclave of former Jedi in Dooku's listening bug. _Dantooine, it, it has traces of the first major galactic government, the mystical Rakatan Infinite Empire_. Obi-Wan's tired mind churned. _Ossus, right, Ossus was a Jedi stronghold for millenia, there is the old Jedi enclave in ruins on Dantooine _ ... He sat up straighter. _Dooku is scouting and then conquering worlds rich in Jedi history, he's substituted that for collecting rugs. He's a greater menace than ever. Would Dooku flout his presence so near to the Old Folks' Home on Dantooine, or on one of its moons? Only one of its moons has atmosphere, and I doubt that Dooku would live in a pressure suit longer than he must. For one thing, it would wrinkle his cloak._ Now that he was coordinating Yoda's and Aayla's chip with the information from Anakin's transponder, like a shot it came to him: Dantooine. Dooku and possibly Grievous had a base on Dantooine. He had his mouth open to speak when a pain worse than Dooku's lightsaber burn sliced through him. "Heh. It's started."

Weeks ago, Obi-Wan had felt first a rolling sensation as the twins' growing heads brought their position to head downward inside him, followed by an easing in his breathing. Today's events were far from such benevolence; there was less movement by the twins, but the following tearing sensation obliterated his train of thought. "Aghhh, _help_ ... " He knew he had approximately twenty minutes of fully-anesthetized downtime to face on Luminara's table, preceded by a who-knew-how-long abruptive process. Most likely ten to fifteen minutes, she had said upon her arrival last week as she took a hiatus from her official assignment. He Sensed that with the aid of Stass and Bant, she was finally correct in his timetable. "Dantooine," he choked out and doubled over. "D-Dooku and - " _Lulu, I know you'd rather be on New Holstice, but we're in this together to the end._

Just then, the second battle of Dantooine began with an assault from Separatists surging from hyperspace. Their deployment of warcraft to conquer the world via land and air forces took place seconds later. Within minutes, Admiral Yularen's fleet appeared and took up the battle. The Map Room's automatic battle display of hotspots erased the rest of the galaxy as it homed in upon the Raioballo sector. The feed showed Dantooine's appearance from orbit, then zoomed in to focus on Republic starfighters and Vulture-class droid ships in the Separatist forces rattling intricate spears of combat. Carrier craft unloaded crysties, acceptably far from the Old Folks' Home on the planet's surface, but too close to eliminate all worry.

Tyler took one look at the red blossoms of laserfire and issued a wail that would have shamed an accipiptero. He was assaulted by multiple stresses in his personal sphere by another moan from Obi-Wan and by the Map Room comm station's feed of real-time battle. _I can't handle this, I really, really cannot. This is too real. I need to return to my spire._

"Sir! I've got you, sir!" _It's like he's been gutshot, the most painful sort of wound. Hang on, General._ Six supported Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Focus! Can you walk?"

"Ye-N-No. It doesn't let up, Six, it _doesn't let up_ - " _The rhythmical breathing that females do wouldn't help me. This is continuous._ "T-Try the smaller moon of Dantooo_oooooo_-ine first, let Anakin know that's where Dooku and maybe Grievous most likely are, you've got to let Anakin know, patch into his ship's comm, I haven't heard from him in a while - " _I can't distract him while I'm in this shape._

In situations like this, Praci were useless, Regork decided. "Tyler, sshut it and ssolidify asss much asss you can. Get out of the ssuit firsst." Tyler blubbed but obeyed, oozing out the neckline of his suit and forming an opaque whitish blob the size of Master Yoda's hoverchair. Regork patted Tyler into a comfortable shape and eased Obi-Wan into the makeshift seat. "Form handholdss." Tyler molded himself into a supportive chair with slots for Regork's and Six's hands. For once, the Praci was too upset to attempt speech. Regork said, "Three, two, one, lift!" and they set off for the infirmary, Six relaying the information about Dantooine's moon to Anakin's Delta-7 as he jogged along, barely able to keep up with Regork.

_A change in plan. Must remember it's not my plan, but the Force's. Anakin won't be with me when our littles are born, Yoda is pulling together his grand backup scheme for ending the war, and __**still**__ haven't thought up an appealing girl's name. "_Ohhhmmmmmnnggn ... " He found himself in a small featureless space. Obi-Wan welcomed the peace and quiet of the temporary room as he reached for his datapad, thought a moment and then scribbled a name down. He erased it with a clawing of his fingernails on the scratched screen as a sharper pain in his back rolled over him. Moments later, the truly perfect name hit him along with the next surge of pain and he scrawled it rapidly. _"Ohhhhhhh_ ... "

The pain was escalating.

Luminara entered and took the datapad from him. "Let's go onto the birthing table, Obi-Wan. No more datapads. It's time to work." She lay a discerning hand on his abdomen and another on his forehead. He felt the edge go from the pain. The holocam coverage he would indulge Luminara in, as he saw her surreptitiously nod to the hovering sphere, and when the red light near its aperture blinked hypnotically, he used its rhythm to lose himself in the Force. _Now it blinks, now it's blank, now it blinks, now it's blank, blink, blank, blink, blank ... _ The next thing he knew, he was sliding onto a comfortable ergonomic table. He noticed the built-in handgrips near each edge. _Don't get ahead of yourself, Jedi._ There seemed to be a large amount of Jedi healer personnel in the room and some Padawan he didn't know rolled him to his left side slightly while another slid a wedge pillow behind his back to brace him to stay that way. Soon it became easier to breathe.

_... at the Old Folk's Home on Dantooine..._

Saesee and Adi formed the center of a group of aged Jedi, ringed by all of the Olanet Three Hundred who could fit in the largest chamber of their underground shelter. "What have you gotten us into, Adi?" The words that not one Jedi or trooper would say echoed and reechoed in Adi's head. _We're not in the old Jedi enclave area, but we're near enough to it to hear the bombing_. Adi laughed at herself. With Siri and the Chosen One near, what could happen to them? She closed her eyes to concentrate on her task.

Saesee's telepathy had its limits in range, until now. As if beginning a Force Laying On Of Hands, Saesee joined hands with Adi and gentled his other roughened hand into an elderly Jedi's feeble grip, a Jedi whose name he hadn't memorized yet. _No. This would not happen. We'll not be pushed away from our new home_. He Felt Adi gathering the experiences from her colleagues and send them out to Siri who reached out for Plo. He joined them with his own memories of his spectacular fight in the Stark Hyperspace War, when he was Adi's wingpilot. From ripples to a full-on wave of power, the Jedi sortie from the main Republic Forces added their own memories and experiences of combat to the communal meld. It was very quiet in the underground shelter.

_... above Dantooine ..._

Admiral Yularen barked into his comm, his usual deference to the Jedi gone. "What are you doing? We can't follow your moves, Black Group! Explain yourselves! Do you copy?"

"Follow us? Support us by tackling the vulture ships, we're going after the Droid Control Ship, Admiral," Siri stated succinctly.

"Three of you? _Only_ thr- "

"Tachi out." United with Adi in spirit as she had rarely been as a Padawan, Siri and Plo and Anakin sped as one to the Droid Control Ship, arcing under its docking claws and heading straight for the core ship. It's like I'm her and she's me and we're - Siri stopped thinking for herself as she let down her shields, unafraid for once to be too close to any other being. The target's importance made the decision an easy one. Thoughts of Adi's strategies from the Stark Hyperspace War and especially Saesee's tactics in the Fifth Battle of Qotile came to the fore and she pressed her firing button without need of the targeting sensor. Through their meld, she sensed Plo and Anakin doing the same. _This will prevent them from deploying more crysties and tinnies, but we're relying on the Admiral to take out more droid ships. I think he is capable._

_... in a turbo tank on Dantooine ..._

Quinlan Vos felt a great deal of satisfaction as he crushed through the crystalline droid lines. "Boomer Girl," as he had named his TX-130 Saber-class fighter tank, led the way of his squadron of thirty such behemoths along the edges of Dantooine's rustic plains near Khoonda. "Same as before, Commander."

The clone Commander smiled before his General could, not that Vos ever smiled much. "Good to see them turn to dust, sir." He charged the top turret's composite-beam laser to form a plasma booma. The time to construct the huge blue energy ball had been honed from one full minute to thirty seconds since their last engagement. At his direction, the multiple laser beams met at a central point in front of the turbo tank, making a plasma booma that glittered with blue sparks. It took on a life of its own as it launched itself at the battlefield. Combined with the mechanical stress provided by the tank's mass, the charged ball provided counterpiezoelectricity, a two-pronged attack to crush the crysties to plain white dust. It was a chain reaction: the crushing of one crystal droid meant its connection to the next was redirected to the one after that and if enough crysties were crushed, say fifteen percent of them, the connection disintegrated and they lost the sense of their orders. Like any computer chip, the synergy dissipated and the crysties wandered aimlessly every which way, rolling like unstrung beads from a jeweler's silken cord. The tanks closed in, crushing more and more. They were like integrated chips, needing something like a processor to direct their energy. By themselves they formed useless loops, full of potential but not deeds. Just the thought of what they were accomplishing today made Quinlan smile as he had not done since leaving Kashyyyk and his family.

Knife Eight was one of those rambling, waving his weapon, firing heedlessly into the wintry air. Sometimes he shot his crystallization mates or himself, just to see their shapes reform. He couldn't tell who he was and who his mates were. _I obeyed my Maker. Why am I leaving this plane of existence? _It made a pretty sight for a dispassionate onlooker, if a being could be found to be dispassionate about such a battle. Like a tornado swirling glittering debris, the battlefield's chaotic crysties had their calm eye. Knife Eight headed for it with his last coherent thought. He dropped his weapon as he ran on multi-jointed legs.

The mobile chip that was Knife Eight pulsed a warning to its processor. "Knife Seven is down. The chain is broken. Retreat." As the same message entered Knife Eight's circuit about Knife Nine, he knew he had only one minute before the tank behind him, arcing electricity back and forth to its fellows, would pulverize him. His chip frazzled, his weapon lost to the muddy plain, Knife Eight searched for succor to his situation, but there was none and the push that had begun his mobile existence two hundred fifty-two days ago ended when he discorporated back to his constituent atoms on Dantooine. He had known nothing but battle in that time and was as content as a soulless being could be.

_Meanwhile, back on Coruscant ..._

"He is so ... scarred," Bant choked out. She wrapped spongy humid digits around Luminara's arm.

Luminara oversaw her prepwork and passed her hands under the sterilight, observing her patient through the transparisteel window above the sterilight's spigot. In seconds she would be caring for one of her dearest friends. She needed to know that Bant would support her. _Kriff this war. Anakin needs to be here._

Luminara only nodded to Bant's remark, supervising the Padawans through the window with gestures and mouthed commands. _This has never been done before. I've got to do it right._ She observed Bant's quivering lip feelers and unshed tears and tried to see Obi-Wan's body as Bant saw it. Bant was Obi-Wan's oldest friend, but had never cared for him beyond the occasional allergy attack and insect sting reaction. The things she thought were making Bant even more empathetic than usual were not the newer marks on his outsized body, but the older scars, evidence of his years of service to the Republic and their Order. Here, a burn on his shoulder that bacta healed, but had not erased. There, on his ribs curling into where his waist used to be, a gundark's claw made that one on Vanqor. And on his right thigh up near the hip, a very old, widespread mark incurred from the crushing rockslide when he was sixteen. Luminara shook off the mood.

"Bant, are you up for this?" _I need you for one hour, tops. Stars prevent any complications, for everyone's sake._

The Mon Calamari looked away. "I feel fine." _Don't interrogate me, sister Jedi_. Sensing that she needed to _act_ and not _react_, Bant straightened, passed her hands under the sterilight and entered the operating theater. Luminara followed closely.

IOIOIOIOIO

To Be Concluded


	50. Chapter 50

Anakin drew in a breath and exhaled slowly, stuffing the crinkly packaging of his latest energizing container of almond-kwevvu krisp-munchies behind his pilot seat. Navigating with one hand, he fondled Obi-Wan's lightsaber on his belt absently. _The second moon, where would I go if I were a fugitive Sith Lord?_ He fixed the blanketing constellations of Dantooine in mind, he Jumped without a navicomp using Grievous' angle of hasty departure from Dantooine's surface, entered the second moon's atmosphere and _knew. There. On the South Continent by a preformed lake._ A pier, a small pad for spacecraft landings and a line of overwintering roses beside the pathway to the home. _Suburbia_ on any planet. The war was all over but the shouting. Nute Gunray, San Hill, Shu Mai and the rest of the motley group would split into factions unless Anakin could fetter them. _Not my forte. Better get The Negotiator in on that one. When he's available, that is._ He landed his Aethersprite beside Grievous' ship, marveling at the lack of security. _Darth Tyranus, you're mine. And your little cyborg, too._ Mechno-hand on both lightsaber hilts, Anakin approached Dooku's base.

IOIOIOIOIOIO

The glorious battlefield rout that was the high point of Quinlas Vos' week made a disastrous sight for Grievous. He gathered a minimal entourage and raced faster than ever before to Dooku's modest dwelling.

"Milord Dooku!" _Pathetic. He's in the detached hangar, barely large enough to store the Solar Sailer. And it's untidy._

Dooku glared from his derezzing feed of the battle. His solitary servant, an FA-4 pilot droid who had been impressed into housekeeping duties as well, rumbled to itself as it adjusted the base of the holoemitter. Dooku had not been in residence long enough to direct his droid to dispose of sporting equipment left behind by the previous owner and it still cluttered one corner of the hangar. "What new strategy are you using? Striking at the enemy firmly with what is left of your face? What has gone wrong?" _First the heat goes out and then this disaster_. He shrugged himself deeper into his fur cloak.

"Milord. Our warriors need you. They need the Force to strengthen their crystalline covalent bonds, at least until I can diagnose and solve - "

"_Your_ problem. Deal with it." The reception improved and Dooku returned to scowling at the space battle. _Koon and that upstart Tachi. Coupled with Skywalker, dauntless and puissant, all three. Can we stop them - Wait. Where is Skywalker's garish Aethersprite? Such a lowclass Jedi craft can belong only to him. Given the sure knowledge that Skywalker had to be near the battle somewhere, of course I am in danger._ He doubted that Anakin could Sense his whereabouts; surely the Chosen One's attention was split between his work and his unusual home life? The burden of responsible leadership has never been this onerous. _Qui-Gon, I need you._ Dooku closed his eyes as he dropped his head in his hands to listen, but Qui-Gon clung to the rest that had eluded him in life. A tremendous commotion came from the pool cabana. "See to that immediately."

Grievous exited without bowing, seething over Dooku and then dismayed at himself as he stared at all four of his dismembered, sparking MagnaGuards. _So much for my improved line._ There stood Skywalker in full Niman stance, his own and what was probably Kenobi's lightsaber in the beginning Jar'Kai position. _Shall I add these to my collection and will it happen today?_ Grievous detached his upper set of arms from his lower and straightened to his full intimidating height as they faced off.

Anakin took the offensive. _Jedi Killer, you need to die now. Soon._ Anakin reversed his hilt hold and stabbed down at Grievous from a high angle with Obi-Wan's lightsaber in his right hand, trying to pinch Grievous' thorax between the upper weapon and the forward thrust of own blade in his left. He pivoted to the right when this failed, whirling into a spinning attack he had practiced after seeing T'ra Saa use it that day in the west hangar. He dropped to the floor and kicked at Grievous' legs to knock him off his feet and nearly lost both his own legs when Grievous himself dropped into his insectile crouch, all four blades stabbing for Anakin's lower body. Anakin spun away and bounced to his feet, securing his lightsabers. He Pulled the tattered cabana on top of Grievous to snarl the cyborg's saberwork, but Grievous pointed all four of his blades upwards and then out to the four corners of the galaxy. The cabana smoked and fell apart and Anakin was forced to Push it aside so that it wouldn't encumber his own footwork. Now for the real trial of my Knighthood, he thought, as he whipped out both of his weapons and charged straight ahead, lightsabers together at their tips to form a piercing wedge.

In a shocking move, Grievous dropped to his back, feet extended to Anakin's charge and before Anakin could sidestep or somersault over the spiky menace, Grievous' talons caught him in the abdomen. Anakin screamed as the talons bit into his flesh through the tabards, through the undertunics and through his undergarments. _He squeezes and I'm done for._ But Grievous did not tighten his claws as he heaved the Jedi over his own form. Instead, he stared at Anakin, face-to-face in silent acknowledgement of the other's courage. It was if his honor had risen from long ago, when he was Qymaen jai Sheelal, the Kaleesh warlord. Anakin read his own death in his opponent's yellow eyes.

_You're mine, meat._ "Jedi scum!"Grievous positioned his four lightsabers to his liking, but he couldn't have anticipated what Anakin did next, no one could. Right before Grievous' own death, he was still astounded by it.

_He's crisscrossing his four blades, he's going to take my head off. Better lose an arm than a head._ "Ahhhhhh_kriffffit!_" Anakin bent his upper body down as much as he could though it made one talon regrip, clenching hard over his tattoo. To gain leverage, he kicked upwards with both legs, seeming to feed even more of himself into the intersecting blades as he angled down, but before Grievous could undo his crossed lightsabers and take off Anakin's head, Anakin's mechno-hand and its bright blade reached through the cross to Grievous' upper right arm socket. The blade hissed between socket and shoulder and neatly severed the arm, the same way that Shmi had taught her son to disjoint a doiseybird for Watto's kitchen. Grievous' lightsaber lost power, the arm relaxed against the duracrete without a quiver. Grievous roared at the indignity done to his treasured lightsaber and undid his cross, clipping off Anakin's mechno-arm. Anakin's metal arm with Obi-Wan's deactivated lightsaber joined Grievous' detached body part on the deck of the pool, but Anakin had jerked his head up and to the side while swiveling his remaining arm with its blade to cut through Grievous' duranium knees. The pain eased in his chest, the talons spasmed outwards and a hideously unbalanced Anakin fell atop Grievous. _Kriff. I'd planned to take out **both** his right arms._

His shins and feet a tumbled clutter to one side, Grievous clung to Anakin as best he could with his thighs, but without the entrapping lower parts of his legs, he had no clamping ability. His rage redlined. _I'll take him out with me. _Grievous brought three hands, each sprouting a defeated Jedi's pillaged lightsaber, down towards his own body. Things looked very bad for Anakin.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

_Painpainpainpain._ "Lulu ... "

"It's nearly over, Obs. And then you can hold them in your arms." _Placenta number one detaching fully ... there. Safety window, three minutes and counting._ She gestured to Bant, who took Obi-Wan's left hand while Luminara poured herself into her task. Luminara didn't spare a glance down to his laboring face, but kept her eyes on the holographic monitor hovering out of Obi-Wan's sight behind his head. A soft flare of cerise outlined the fundus of the uterus as a chime sounded. She and Bant traded looks. There was resolve in Bant's steady gaze that warmed Luminara's heart.

" - _nnnggghhhh_ - "

"You're doing well ... first placenta separated, Bant, second detaching, the process will constrict the uterine walls at the contact point and the twins may protest a bit ... " The holocam kept a programmed discreet distance from Obi-Wan's face for privacy's sake, focusing on the distended belly that showed through its rippling surface the struggle being waged inside it. Obi-Wan's navel had disappeared months ago, replaced by a bulge. The bulge turned as red as Obi-Wan's face.

" - _nnngghhhrrrrrhuh _- they're having a fistfight in there - " This was one third pain, Obi-Wan analyzed, one third pressure, and one third _something else_, not entirely unrelated to the _something_ between Anakin and himself, but in a different octave. He panted, he threw the wedge pillow bracing him to keep him in on his left side to a far corner and rolled onto his back despite all warnings, he twisted to his other side, and then onto his back again. There was a _rrrriip_ that he almost heard, and then Luminara and Bant and Stass became all business. Bant rolled both of his tube-draped arms back to shoulder level, adjusting a standing drape over Obi-Wan's enormous abdomen. He looked down his body and saw only a white glacier made of linen. _Calving._ That was the term for glaciers when they shed their icy babies to float upon the freedom of the sea, he thought giddily. _I'm going to calve today._ He laughed aloud. Bant held both his hands in her strong ones, the moist webbed fingers feeling as competent as he remembered from being under her care years before. A glacier-like sensation spread from sternum to pubis as Luminara iced him with the sterile field from the console overhead and cut him open. If it hurt, he didn't remember it afterward. What he would always remember was the lightweight feeling, as light as if he were dancing as his children left his body.

Stass approached the table. Obi-Wan looked down at himself again, but couldn't see anything except the glacier and Luminara's intent profile. The actions of her quick hands he could neither see nor feel. _Stass, you have them now. You're doing something with them over in the corner, what could be wrong that they are not crying, I thought all human babies wailed when they were birthed, what is wrong what is wrong get that kriffing holocam out of this room and tell me tell me what is wrong ..._

"Obi-Wan, hear me. _Look_ at me. Your blood pressure is spiking. _Nothing_ is wrong. Calm down." Bant stroked his hands, wiped his face and eyes. "They are _fine,_ they are _beautiful_, Stass is cleaning them and clipping their cords. _Everything's_ fine. Human babies born this way often don't cry loudly. They haven't been squeezed for hours through the birth canal, they aren't going to be wrinkled and have funny-shaped heads, like mine."

Obi-Wan's eyes filled. _You're my friend. You're never funny-looking, Bant._ Some feeling overrode the icy anesthetic and there was some tugging and pinching on his guts.

Luminara's fingers flew as she put things in place and laser-stitched and bactaed and glued skin back together. "One change in plan, Obi-Wan," she said as she nodded to the holocam to disengage. It drifted to a corner and hovered. "I've left in your uterus and ovaries. I'm not going to knock you out and traumatize you further today with their removal and that interface needs to stay in place until its postpartum job is done. It won't be pleasant for the next few weeks, but then it isn't pleasant for human females, either. You're contracting nicely, the placentas looked normal, the blood loss was minimal." She finished her movements and covered him with a thermal blanket. "Stay here awhile until you settle. The sterile field's good for you for an hour or two, anyway, until you feel like standing up."

Obi-Wan was certain that he could never stand again. "Lu, where - "

Bant stepped aside after giving his cheek a final pat. She loosened her chromatophores to glow her happiest, rosiest pink as Stass approached the birthing table. "Master Kenobi, may I present your family," the smiling Master announced. Stass placed a lavender-wrapped bundle in the crook of his right arm. "Baby Girl Kenobi." And in the tube-bedecked embrace of his left arm, she deposited a green-swaddled baby, complete with peaked cap, looking as adorable as his sister. "And Baby Boy Kenobi." The twins looked at Obi-Wan near-sightedly and then away. Stass whispered to the overhead lamp to 'simulate candlelight' before she stepped away. Obi-Wan was grateful that no one other than Bant saw his tears overflow.

Luminara was the last to leave the room. "Be back in an hour. Call me if necessary. Congratulations, Obs."

Obi-Wan looked from one unfocused gaze to the other. "Well, hello there," he said.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Anakin flinched to the side, Calling his dismembered arm. It slid near his waist, leather fingers flexing. Thrashing at Grievous with no recognized Form with his only attached arm, fighting the pain of his lacerated chest and snapping pseudosynapses in his stump, he hissed when he parried Grievous' second blade and it was knocked backward through Obi-Wan's lightsaber hilt. _I've lost it for Master. I can hear the lecture now._ Anakin Pushed Grievous away, though the pain made his concentration stutter. _Got to regroup. Need a second wind._ Anakin collided with a bisected MagnaGuard as he scrambled awkwardly to his feet, barking both ankles. _At least I've still **got** ankles._ Needing to finish this _now_ and head for Dooku, Anakin Pulled up a personal watercraft afloat in the large pool and dumped it on top of Grievous. He gathered his arm and charged into the hangar, panting.

Dooku turned, expecting Grievous. _Oh._ "You have learned something, Skywalker." Dooku flourished his red blade. "A duel? Again? Didn't you regret the last one?" _Dun Möch, I am a Master of it._ "Have at you!"

_I can do this. _Off-balance and willing himself to compensate for it without flailing, Anakin parried Dooku's exquisite thrust, keeping his stump pressed to his side to hold his precious mechno-arm. Back and forth they dueled, a battered, gasping Jedi against a cool Dark Lord of the Sith. Five minutes later, Anakin doubted his self-confidence. _I'm ripped up and he hasn't a scratch on him. At least Grievous won't be joining us soon_.

_Where is that cyborg? This one has improved in his swordsmanship and I'm getting winded._ Dooku flourished his cloak at Anakin as if to a rampaging reek, and sure enough the boy charged. Dooku was not fooled. _He's smarter, stronger than before. I must be cautious. _When the charge was close enough, Dooku backflipped over the one-armed Jedi and landed in the pile of sporting equipment. The curved slats of wood that must have been used for some time-wasting activity clattered beneath his boots and he nearly bobbled his lightsaber. To cover his embarrassment, Dooku Force-manipulated one slat and used it to slide down the pile, away from Anakin. "You'll not force me out of my home again, Jedi. I need a base for research. My crystalline warriors are made from sand, one of the most common materials in the galaxy. We may have used up the sand from places like the Desert of Salma on Endor, but there is always plenty sand on Tatooine." _A black thread of concern in this callow one's aura? Unravel it._

"Tatooine is next. Ah, young Knight, that is touching a nerve. I feel your anger, so much more feeble than years ago when I fileted you. What has happened to dilute it so?"

Dooku narrowed his eyes, beetled his heavy brows, reaching for his answer, reaching and Anakin blocked each mental probe, the piercing stabs slicing as painfully sharp as a saber made of durasteel. Anakin flung up shield after shield, too exhausted to do more than defend. Confidence rolled over him again as Dooku's thrusts failed to penetrate his mind.

Frustrated, Dooku called upon the Force to flog his own mind, dredging up pieces of Anakin's past to hurl against him. It was not often that Dooku looked inward. _Nearly four years ago. Mother killed by Tuskens on benighted Tatooine. There! Debride that old wound with Dun Möch! "_Yes, Tatooine, where your dear mother lies beneath the sand." _I have no idea whether she is interred there, but his eyes are blazing and in this light they appear yellow. Ah, if only ..._ "Perhaps we shall crush her bones and mold the pitiful dust into our sand, use the mix to form one of my elegant crystal warriors. Perhaps you shall meet her in battle, who knows? What would you do then, Chosen One? How would you choose?_" __Forget about Grievous' contribution. He probably already has._

'_His crystal warriors? **His** crystal warriors?_' Clanking up to the hangar door, Grievous' outrage took the form of action. _First the Jedi, then the Sith Lord. I can command without any meat's help._ Grievous' thirty-centimeter-circumference waist was scored on either side by his near-ruinous plunge towards himself with his own three lightsabers, but his spinal column remained supple enough to sling-shot his body to once again stand on his thighs when Anakin Pushed him flat. Grievous looked over to see Anakin approaching, the Jedi's one blade agleam under eyes blazing with un-Jedi-like rage. Grievous ran to Dooku's Solar Sailer on his shortened legs and leaped upon the left wing. _Three lightsabers against one. Not bad odds. I want it better._

Anakin took advantage of the cyborg's flight to center himself as he turned back to Dooku. It was time for some Jedi Dun Möch. "Where can you run? Who would have you? Surrender to me. You'll be treated justly."

Dooku edged towards his ship. "You Jedi. Always thinking ahead, to justice for some past wrong. Why not stop looking to the next generation and beyond it with your failed Padawan and Master system and look around you? Look at the beauty that is right in front of you, the terentatek carpet, the living crystal armies?" _Tug on the pilot droid, yes, and get his attention. Yes, good, he's tracking me. Grievous is planning something to distract_ -

"'Looking around at the moment'? Sounds like the Living Force to me, Dooku. Didn't Qui-Gon's stint as your Padawan teach you _anything _about that?" Anakin got his breath back.

_I'll kill him for those words. "I don't want your charity_. And do not mention Qui-Gon's name ever again. You would not have made him a worthy Padawan, Skywalker. Even Kenobi was better than _you_."

Anakin burst out laughing. "That is supposed to hurt me? Of _course_ Obi-Wan is a better Jedi than I am!"

Grievous sprang from the Sailer's wing over Dooku's head, three lightsabers ablaze and whirling like some bizarre battling mynock. Anakin stepped out of the way, slicing the lightsaber from Grievous' lower left arm as the Kaleesh flew by him and then rolled into something resembling a droideka. Down to two lightsabers and two arms, Grievous' truncated body still was formidable. He made use of his new stature as he tucked himself double and rolled towards Anakin. Anakin stepped backwards as easily as he could on his abraded ankles. _He's shorter than I expected. _It was a desperate move on Grievous' part, and an unskilled one in his new form, but Anakin laughed until he was again breathlessly dizzy and the laughter enraged Dooku.

_Faugh_. "Shoot him," Dooku ordered his pilot droid-turned-warrior-turned-housekeeper. "Shoot the cyborg. He's in the way." Dooku spat blue lightning at Grievous and the cyborg ducked, losing another right arm in the droid's blaster fire. The pilot droid continued firing tirelessly as droids always did. Through his dizziness, Anakin concentrated with every bit of his considerable command of the Force and threw his arm with his activated lightsaber so that it angled the blue blade up between Grievous' curtailed legs. There was no flesh there, though there was a nexus of interfaces that controlled the legs' coordinating impulses with the four, now two, arms when Grievous went quadrupedal. Grievous lost control of his body, sepia slush stained the duracrete hangar floor, permanently Dooku thought in consternation, and Grievous' mask cracked down hard on the waste-stained duracrete. The mask fell off, Grievous' eyes crossed, and all that was left of the Kaleesh master murderer and military genius was a sparking simulacrum of a being. The torso spun in a circle. The bag of organs pulsed life feebly into the metal structure once, but the impulses that fired the structure's movements released into the air, not through artificial synapses. Grievous now resembled the spinning attraction on Anakin's first trip to the Euceron amusement park, the one that had made Ferus ill when he had accompanied him on the ride. Anakin had an sturdier stomach.

The second that Dooku turned to flee, Anakin pounced on the Sith, rolling him over with a tumbling dive across Grievous' spinning bulk. The two approximated height, but Anakin's youth and muscular build trapped the aged Count for the briefest of moments before Dooku himself sparked, not Grievous' blue-white coruscations but the darker, deadlier Sith lightning. It seemed to issue from Dooku's back, his neck, his very pores and Anakin was forced to release him. Anakin's hair stood on end, the implants in the stump of his right arm felt completely fried, but he still had one hand left and he used it to seize Dooku's ankle and trip him. A stunning backwards kick into Anakin's face broke his upper two front teeth and he had to let go. Through bloody lips, Anakin shouted at Dooku's fleeing form, "You'w nevuh get away wid dis! I'w hunt you down, Obi-Wan Kenobi wiw find out wheyuh you've gone and he'w nevuh stop, no, nevuh - "

_It's Dun Möch time again, rip his psyche like I know I can._ "My Grand-Padawan is in no shape to think right now, much less find me. He's in labor. Can't _you_ tell?" _His last holo was in profile and it's just about his time to deliver. What a shapeless mess he looked, not at all what Qui-Gon would have approved of._ Dooku turned briefly and pressed down on Anakin's head with one broad Force-hand while he directed the lifeless arm. He nearly managed to spear Anakin with his own lightsaber. Anakin scissor-kicked the offending arm in a desperate scramball play and the lightsaber angled just enough towards the Sith to make Dooku scramble in an undignified fashion for his Solar Sailer's ramp control. The pressure on Anakin's head ceased, Anakin grabbed his own mechno-arm that had spastically clenched upon his still-ignited lightsaber, and speared it towards Dooku. The aerodynamics were all off and he succeeded only in piercing Dooku's kudana fur cape. The lightsaber and arm clattered to the floor. Anakin regained his feet, limping quickly towards the hovering ship's ramp, but he was not fast enough. Dooku's neatly trimmed beard contorted in one final sneer, the Solar Sailer's ramp closed, and Anakin flattened himself just in time to avoid being smeared across the viewport like some unfortunate insect. As it was, the repulsors' added flaming armament singed his hair, burned his back, buttocks and heels. Grievous continued to make wet coughing sounds, sounds that resembled laughter.

Anakin cursed and panted. His stump sent odd signals to his brain. _Pain center activated. Pain receptors inactivated. Justify. Pain center activated. Pain receptors inactivated. Justify._ The cut lips and broken teeth had no such loop. _Painpainpainpain ... _Anakin coughed as raspingly as Grievous, brushing away bloody spittle with his sprained hand, wincing at his burns, his mouth, his back and sorting out his arm's confused signals. He finally, gingerly, touched his implants and pinched their ends together, negating their input to a self-contained loop away from his pain center. _Aaaah, kriff, that hurts owowowowooohh ... oh, better now ... wait, what? Obi-Wan's in labor?_ He gained his feet awkwardly with one arm, and favoring the cracked heel, he wobbled to his Aethersprite.

"Wed Fi to Old Folks' Ho. Wed Fi to Old Folks' Ho. Neutwawized Gwieous. Dooku in fwight, whewuhouts unknown. Puhsonal condition insuff-ow-cient to e'ect puhsuit. Pwease adise." _Labor? No, he had to be wrong. Obi-Wan would not have to go through labor, because there's no outlet for little Pierpont, Jerusha, Durwood or Petunia or whatever other names Obi-Wan added to our list when I left. No, there will be very little pain involved. Obi-Wan would have told me. He would have_.

"Mrrrrr ... _frazzzzz_ ... -ive, Old Folks' Home. Repeat. Red Five, this is Old Folks' Home. Reply." A bad connection, but better than none.

"Old Folks' Ho, Wed Fi heeyuh. Neutwawized Gwieous. Dooku in fwight, whewuhbouts unknown. Puhsonal condition - ohhhhh - c-can't e'ect puhsuit. Pwease ad'ise."

A lengthy pause, a shuffle, the whack of a _naynabo_-root stick against a marble floor lightyears away. "Yoda here. Dooku's ship, you can capture. Coruscant, your next stop is."

"Mastuh, dank you fuh wepwying yoseff. Pwease teh me about Obi-Wan's condition. Dooku said someding _unbeweivabuh_ ..."

"Obi-Wan, in good health, naturally in some discomfort he is, but in good health."

Anakin wasn't being told something. He didn't like it. "Mastuh, I have da wight to know - "

"All is normal, natural. Younglings safe, they are. When home you come, greet you, they will." Yoda's voice softened. "Chosen One, take care of yourself. All goes well here. Trust your feelings. Tell you this, do they not?"

From parsecs away, from Core to Outer Rim, Obi-Wan reached out to him, an amazing display of their imprinted bond. Anakin cocooned the bearer of his children tenderly in Force-fingers, feeling their bond striped with blood, but still intact. "He's huhting, he's in gwate pain, Mastuh, what da _kwiff_ is going on? He can't be in labuh, dere's _no way_ - "

"Liar, my old apprentice is. No help for him now, deluded as he is, corrupted by the Dark Side and grown in it these past thirteen years." _Inevitable, was it? Yoda, give up hope for this one. Lost to the Jedi, Dooku is._ "Labor, one word for the process is. Dooku, what knows he about such things? Hurt you with words, when hurt you with deeds, he could not." Anakin felt the ragged stumps of his teeth with his swollen tongue and the burns on his back throbbed. He spat again.

"So it's someding minuh?"_ Let it be something minor, the hip pains, the leg cramps, the round ligaments stretching, anything but life-threatening. _"What is it?"

_Crrraaacckkkkkle_ "-king up, your signal is. Worry about Obi-Wan, do not. Procee- _frzzzzz_ -after Dooku. All will be well. Yoda out."

Anakin called on all his strength to limp away. _I don't have time for the medkit, owwww it hurts to sit, Obi-Wan and I are in pain together. Somehow that is too much togetherness._ He punched the panel, activating the one mod that he and Saesee and all the rest of his hangar crew had talked Obi-Wan into. In moments he was after Dooku's Solar Sailer and then he caught up to it. _Split seconds before you gather enough of the solar wind to power for hyperspace. Got you. I knew I could build a better control panel._ The Delta-7 Aethersprite performed beyond his fondest hopes. He was going to paint a name on it the first chance he got.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIO

"Enemy directly astern. Action?"

"As before. Strategic withdrawal." _I'm running. Again._

"Enemy upon us. Action?"

"Punch it, fool!" Dooku blasted the FA-4 pilot out of its seat. He hauled back on the hyperdrive lever, but nothing happened. He tried again. An orange light strobed.

Dooku sighed. _There is nothing so ignominious as being caught by a tractor beam. I'll never live it down to myself. At least Grievous will never see this._

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Upon seeing another Aethersprite between Dantooine and its moons, Anakin jammed his bloody chin into his shoulder to activate his transponder, but it had reached its preprogrammed lifespan. "Kwiff!" he cursed again. _Siri?_

His comm board chirped."Anakin, Tachi here. I've got Dooku in my sights."

_She's here when I need her, I'll give her that. _"Don't fire - ouch - da twactor eam has him. I need an escort ack to Coruscant. He can't get away dis time."

Siri Sensed this to be true. _Chosen One, what would we do without you?_ "Well, my ship doesn't have an internal hyperdrive like yours does, but I can coordinate with you and meet you over Coruscant and escort you in from there. I'll notify CorSec, too, and we'll have every contingency for any escape covered. Overkill, I realize, but - "

"A gweat idea, a wonderful - ow - idea! Sending coohdinates now." _I'm on my way, Obi-Wan._ The last thing Anakin saw before starlines was Siri's determined look through her transparisteel canopy. He nodded to her, and she nodded back. _Truce_. He would stop outside of Coruscant, on Centax-1's moon garrison. It would be prudent to have twenty thousand clone troopers at his back when he Force-cuffed Dooku. _And Siri at my back, too. Good_. "Owww, ouch, kwiff, kwiff, double kwiff, twiple kwiff, _fuck!_" He twisted in the meditation seat that Saesee had designed for long trips. _At least it's only three days back to Coruscant and not four like from Trow. I don't think I could stand another day's wait. _Anakin patted the controls. Just like before on his ship left behind on Cularin, no, better than before, technology had helped him and his cause. He set the proximity alarm for Centax-1. _Where is that inship medkit?_ It was going to be a bitch reattaching his arm in this confined space.

_Three days later, at the Temple's east hangar_ ...

"'Honor died when dueling was outlawed,' said that to me decades ago, you did, my old Padawan-Learner. Walk with me now and explain your words to me, you _will_." The ring of Jedi warrior-diplomats around the small group must have numbered fifty, Anakin thought.

Dooku stiffened his spine and clanked his Force-inhibiting cuffs together. "Like this?"

"Fools a second time, we are not. Visit Saa we will; need company for a time, you do. Contemplate her fate, you will." The Jedi Grandmaster and Sith Lord left the hangar together, unescorted at a gesture from Yoda's _naynabo_ gimer stick. Anakin couldn't spend any more time thinking about them.

"Obi-Wan! I'm coming!" Anakin pledged to no one but himself. He bounded out of the hangar and shed his cloak as he Force-leaped along the hallways. Other Jedi bore bemused expressions at their Chosen One's haste as they shrank to the side of the broad corridors in the powerhouse of the Force that was the Temple. The event had happened days ago.

Anakin slowed his steps at the infirmary and approached the banked warmth that was Obi-Wan and his children. He stopped completely at the door to Obi-Wan's room. Out of breath, he palmed it open.

"Obi-Wan! I lost your lightsaber!" Anakin burst out as he halted in the entrance, a little afraid to greet his new life. "I'm sorry." He gathered his courage and approached the bed, sipping from Obi-Wan's water to wet his dry, sore mouth. The medkit's tooth regenerator always left him parched.

_You fool, you darling fool, as if I cared._ "Ilum is still in orbit, Anakin. I can make another. Come, meet our family." The twins made sleepy sounds at Anakin and he cooed back.

"Beautiful, I can't tell you how much, I d-don't have the wo- "

"I know."

_So he likes the idea now. Good._ "Can I hold one?"

"You must." Obi-Wan handed one drowsy bundle over. "That's the girl."

His daughter just fit on his forearm. "She's ... small? Is she all right?"

_Ah, the worry begins._ "She's fine. A little early, that is all."

"What's her name?" _I didn't add a single name to our list. F-Kr-Stang._

_Owww, hurts to reach out. Lu said my abdominals would be sore_. "Anakin, the list, please." The nightstand seemed a parsec away.

Anakin replaced Obi-Wan's waterglass on the rolling traytable and handed Obi-Wan the datapad."Your list? Here it is, sweetheart. What's this one that's not crossed off on the girl's side?" The handwriting looked like Obi-Wan had written it as he labored.

"It's 'Lucretia'." Obi-Wan would fight for this name. Its meaning of 'riches' could not describe better his and Anakin's current state. _We Jedi are allowed some riches now. And I intend to keep mine_.

_I can give him this._ "All right, I concur. 'Lucretia' for the girl. But" - Anakin saw as with macrobinoculars the tiny white pimples around his boy's nose, the ruddy cheeks, the spate of reddish-blond hair, the spastic movements that all newborns made, at least in his experience with Ali-Anann's limited supply of beings this young - "I think" - _what was that? what did I just Hear?_ - "yes, 'Donald' would be a fine name for the boy." Donald's eyes opened wide, the darkish blue of many human newborns, including Donald's sister's. Whether they would remain blue, Anakin didn't know.

"Lucretia and Donald, meet Anakin Skywalker." With this formality, the Force flexed and expanded around the four of them, four, the number two squared, the mystical number designating the number of Elements in certain value systems. In his esoteric readings during the weeks of waiting for this event, Obi-Wan privately assigned Fire's fierceness to Anakin, Water's tender emotions to the presence that would become little Luc, the solid dependable Ground to the second presence, whatever his or her name should be, and after considerable meditation, Air to himself, because Fire could not exist without Air. He pondered these things in his heart and would tell Anakin later, if at all. A Master and his Knight did not have to know _everything_ about each other.

Anakin beamed. _Covalent bonds. Equally orbiting electrons around central points, not just two electrons now, but four, in infinitely complex rhythms_. "Obi-Wan, do you want to do this again in a year? Say, next spr- "

The pillow slapped Anakin on the mouth eloquently.

THE END

A/N: This story is dedicated to my step-father, Donald, who understood the theme of Lord of the Rings, played drums, hooked rugs, made deerskin slippers and hand-tooled leather purses for all us females, bought my first car and whose imaginative watercolors I still have. At ease, soldier. See you in thirty.

IOIOIOIOIOIOIO

A sample of unexpurgated notes: anakin hauls back dooku but dooku tries his darndet to get away and then the rest of yularen's force puls up or maybe it its only sisr and then she and he finally are a team adn siri is the big bluffing monster as anakin's tractor hauls doou all the way back to ? or a,s,adi and others tiin on dantooine for finale the polis massa where labor, ha, begins? and big fight, adi and siri involved but siri and adi protecting the old ones from dooku who is contemptuous see you all could be like me if you had followed the dark side they looked at each other and formed a force healing surge flinging it at him. he flung it back at them with a contemptuuous laugh. hahaha i don't need your healing, i don't want it, grievous is killed when he trie to ? the old folks'

gjJFJTPEDM JG;LFJGLDJ

Is this linear thinking or what?

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

And now, for pronker's Room of Ooopsies, the title of which is borrowed from a seminal work of heartbreaking genius on the Master-Apprentice Archive, (The Room of Woopsies by Alaric), here are some items that slipped through the editing process:

ARCs are only the first one hundred of the clones during the Clone Wars, the ones most like Jango and trained by him. So there would be no ARC397, etc.

Vleen Argoe, my male Glarsaur shvash gas seller was a female human pyromaniac gas seller, per Wookieepedia. Wish I'd caught that one.

It is the same season all over the GFFA, regardless of world: the story begins in springtime, Obi-Wan's pregnancy is discovered in early summer, Anakin comes home from Cularin in autumn, the twins arrive heralding the end of winter. If one cannot have things consistent in the GFFA, why go there?

IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO

Many thanks to the gracious readers and reviewers all these months. May The Force Be With You. Today is Talk Like A Pirate Day. Arrrrr.


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